


Same Time Last Year

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Series: Shriyuk Time Loop [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Groundhog Day, Suicidal Ideation, don't be scared, major character deaths, not as dark as it sounds, time-loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 36,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: "I move faster on my own."Where had Shepard heard that before? Oh yes, right here in the cargo bay, maybe twenty times now- she'd lost count. While the Reapers were cruel, reliving this conversation and what comes after over and over - and becoming the butt of the galaxy's cruellest joke - was worse.Now, if only she could just keep this damn turian from dying.
Relationships: Nihlus Kryik/Female Shepard
Series: Shriyuk Time Loop [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1905799
Comments: 95
Kudos: 106
Collections: Mass Effect Big Bang 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Readers: [**Some_Writer**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Writer) & [**Kuraiummei**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuraiummei)
> 
> Art by: [**Blueboxness**](https://blu-scribbles.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr

**Prologue**

\---

Gasping for air was never the way Shepard expected to go.

While the odds of an N7 making it to a ripe old age like Anderson were low, she didn’t waste time thinking about when, not if, she’d bite the big one. Maybe it was an invulnerability complex brought on by skill and just a little luck. Maybe it was holding on to that teenage sense of immortality so she could throw herself into battle any time, any place.

The why and how were no longer relevant-- psychology didn’t matter.

Death had come calling.

It was almost peaceful, in sharp contrast to the chaos of evacuating the _Normandy’s_ flaming decks. All around were stars and, far below, a planet of ice and snow. As Shepard spun through the vacuum of space, she could see her ship broken in two and burning. She wasn’t injured, and the need to breathe hadn’t gotten intense yet, but that, seeing her _home_ burn, it hurt. Like wounds couldn’t. Like death did not seem to.

Shepard spun around again. The last flight of the _SR-1_ was replaced with a billion glittering stars and an icy horizon once more. Life pods streamed out from the wreckage, and Shepard watched them fly away; it eased the pain. Most of the crew were safe. They’d carry on the mission without her.

Then the air was gone, the starlight dimmed, and Shepard faded out.

\---


	2. She woke up gasping

**She woke up gasping**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard groaned, her hand automatically slamming the wall beside her bunk to silence the blaring alarm. Frigid palm over her tired eyes, she coughed a few times and rolled over. Around the room, a handful of other soldiers grumbled about it being _too damn early._ Never mind that their shifts started at the same time every cycle, she couldn’t agree more. Shepard felt off like she could sleep for another eight hours. The dregs of dreams chased themselves around in her head. Fire and ice. Stars and spinning. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment longer, trying to ward off the day before reality set in. She coughed again.

The _Normandy_. Burning.

Bolting upright, Shepard nearly smashed her head on the underside of the top bunk. Her hands went to her throat, and she gasped for air. A great lungful of sweet, glorious oxygen filled them, and her vision quickly brightened from the centre outward.

“All right there, Commander?”

Shepard physically turned, her feet settling on the cold metal floor and narrowing her gaze. Lieutenant Alenko stood not two meters away. He paused his morning routine, straightening the covers on his cot like she’d seen him do a hundred times before.

“Kaidan--” She blinked a few times, but he remained stubbornly solid in front of her. Kaidan was supposed to be dead. She remembered leaving him behind on Virmire, and writing a letter to his family, and holding a memorial with the crew, and--

She swallowed down her confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good to hear,” he smiled broadly before grabbing his hygiene kit and heading for the door. “See you at breakfast!”

“Yeah.” Shepard watched him go, her gaze transfixed until the door closed and he was gone.

_What the hell._

\---

Everything about today seemed strange, like déjà vu on steroids. While it wasn’t unusual for a day in the life of a soldier to be mundane-- from uniforms to standardized rations-- Shepard had to admit this was too freaky. Emerson was nursing a cold. Lowe kept on about how his daughter had just turned two. Jenkins was making jokes she’d heard before-- _and hadn’t he been dead too?_

Later, when the Commander walked onto the bridge and saw Spectre Nihlus Kryik standing there, supervising one of the Normandy’s first relay jumps, she knew things had gone too far. This day was too screwy. Too-- memorable. There was no way she spent a lifetime in a dream. After the jump, she’d see Chakwas. The Doctor would have answers; she had to.

“The board is green,” Joker announced, bringing her back to the present. His hands moved steadily across the control console, zipping from the ignition switch to steadying life support systems without a second thought. “Approach run has begun.”

Shepard shook her head as if trying to clear water out of her ears. Beside her, Nihlus glanced over briefly before turning back to watch the jump.

“Hitting the relay in three, two, one.”

The jump was inexplicably comfortable, almost like she’d gotten used to the frigate’s unique pattern without trying. It made no sense, this wave of nostalgia that washed over her.

Her throat felt dry, and Shepard resisted the urge to cough.

“Thrusters, Check. Navigation, check.” Joker continued through his checklist as he cleaned up their re-entry. “Internal emissions sink engaged. All systems online. Drift--”

“Just under 1500k,” Shepard finished for him without looking at his screens. She took a step closer and placed her hand on the back of the seat to steady herself and confirm that yes, the numbers agreed with what she already knew.

“Nicely done,” Nihlus hummed beside her. “Your Captain will be pleased.”

Shepard watched the turian go as Alenko and Joker quipped at one another behind her. _How the hell could she have known that? What in the ever-loving fuck was going on?_

\---

Suited up and ready to drop, Shepard still couldn’t shake the feeling something terrible was going to happen. Nihlus had gone ahead, combat-dropping from the ship before she had time to argue with his comment of ‘being faster on his own.’

He was going to die. Shepard knew it in her bones, but there was nothing she could do to stop it now. Try as she might, the Commander knew the squad was too far away. His body would already be cooling by the time they reached the docks.

The knowledge of it sat heavy in her gut, like fear, but with a kind of certainty that chilled.

The red skies of Eden Prime clouded with smoke as the ground team headed toward the beacon’s location, rushing through the hilly landscape. The sinking feeling kept getting worse even as Kaidan and Jenkins voiced their discomforts too. When two small drones popped out in their path, Shepard gave in to her brain’s incessant nagging, fear roaring in her ears.

“Get down!” she yelled in time for Jenkins to listen, and he did. She downed the drones with her assault rifle and a warp before Kaidan could even get a shot off.

Jenkins lived, and Shepard caught her breath.

When they encountered Ash, a woman who Shepard should have never seen before today, the Commander felt unhinged. Unfit for duty. She knew the soldier’s name and rank. She knew about her sisters and her love of poetry.

The impossible recall-- _was it real?_

A single gunshot went off in the distance, and Shepard knew Nihlus was dead.

\---

In the end, the Commander decided to ignore her gut.

It couldn’t be possible that she had dreamed an entire lifetime in one night. She chalked the déjà vu up to mission stress and nerves. Chakwas couldn’t find anything wrong on her scans, even after the beacon encounter. Shepard lived with the eeriness and took command of the _Normandy_ as the first human Spectre. The title came without training, and her mission took her to the far reaches of the galaxy as it had in her false memories.

Shepard didn’t change a thing even as the body count began to pile up underneath her. Benezia went down despite Liara’s screams, and Kaidan stayed with the bomb on Virmire. When it came to the final battle, Saren was once again undeterred. They shot him until he fell from his hovercraft, crashed through the glass and got impaled by the shards.

She couldn’t save a single one of them.

Only when the Normandy’s warning sirens started blaring did Shepard believe herself. When she was spiralling through space, watching Joker’s pod disappear into the darkness, she vowed to listen to her gut-- _if there even was a next time._

\---


	3. Still Alive

**Still Alive**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard’s eyes shot open, and she drew in a sharp inhale like one of those corny vids where someone came back from the brink of drowning. She was back on the _Normandy_ , back in bed, alive and breathing-- her heart racing behind her ribs. The dim light of the Normandy’s bunk room grew brighter, noise and smell filtering in, complaining mumbles and the scent of recycled air.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“Shut that thing off!” someone groused. It sounded like Chase. But she’d seen Chase’s body just minutes ago-- _or was it a lifetime?_

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“All right there, Commander?” Kaidan said as he stepped beside her bunk and shut off the alarm himself. He leaned over her, his forearm against the railing. A smile on his scruffy face, looking like he needed a shave just as he had the morning he died on Virmire for the second time.

Shepard shook her head and waved him off. “Yeah. Fine.”

His brows rose a little at the clipped tone, but it seemed like enough for the solider. He pushed off the railing and grabbed his hygiene kit from his bed. “Okay, see you at breakfast.”

\---

Shepard remembered her vow. She refused to let fate control her; if she knew the future, then she damn well was going to use that knowledge for her advantage. The Commander had time to agonize over what could be done differently in sleepless nights during her second life. Now, she could put those thoughts into action.

So, this time when Nihlus said: “I move faster on my own.” Shepard grabbed his forearm. The turian flinched, looking from her face to her hand and back. He raised a brow plate at her as if to say ‘ _excuse me?’_

“Not so fast,” she argued, letting go once she was certain Nihlus wouldn’t just jump out of the _Normandy_ anyway. “How are you supposed to evaluate me if you go on ahead?”

His right mandible flicked out, she didn’t know what that meant, but he then nodded. “All right, Commander. We’ll do it your way.”

They reached drop point number two, leaving Jenkins on the _Normandy_ to ensure the idiot didn’t get himself killed by the drones like he did on Shepard’s first run of Eden Prime, and tried to on the second. Kaidan made himself a useful third, and they found Ash exactly where Shepard expected her to be. With four of them, the fight was almost leisurely. She could get used to the staccato boom of Nihlus’ shotgun at her side.

When they reached the docks, the dockworker was able to fill them in on Saren’s actions despite there being no turian body left for them to find. Seeing Nihlus’ expression harden when he realized his mentor was behind this attack made Shepard’s expression drop. He hadn’t suspected a thing the last two times, Saren had shot him in the back of the head. Until the end, Nihlus had trusted the other turian enough to turn away. For a highly trained operative, that symbolized faith in the highest regard.

She pulled him aside. Telling Kaidan and Ash to scout ahead, knowing there weren’t any hostiles in the immediate vicinity regardless.

“Talk to me, Nihlus. What’s going on?”

The appraising look he gave her made her itch. She barely knew the turian nor the expressions of his species. He’d died so suddenly before that she hadn’t had a chance to gauge him. The moment stretched out between them, and Shepard refused to back down. It seemed to impress him that she didn’t quiver.

“There must be a reason,” he said.

“Of course, there’s a reason,” Shepard nodded. She knew Nihlus had no reason to distrust Saren, not yet. Shepard would keep her cards close to her chest and let him figure it out himself. Or-- she hoped that’s what would happen. He could just as easily side with Saren on principle. “We just don’t know if it’s a good one or not.”

Nihlus scoffed, his mandibles quirked in what she now knew was a turian grin from her time with Garrus. At least she understood that one. “I knew there was a reason I chose you.”

After spitballing a few ideas off one another, they caught up with the rest of the squad. While Saren still got away, at least this time, Nihlus didn’t die.

Later, when Shepard woke on the _Normandy_ after encountering the beacon, it was a little different than either time before. Karin was nowhere nearby, and Nihlus sat on the other bed, his arms crossed under his keel and expression tight as he waited on her to wake up. Visions of chaos and cannon fire left afterimages that haloed the room when she opened her eyes.

“Welcome back, Commander.” His mandibles flared outward, his vocal flange sounding something like relieved. “Good to see you awake. Would have made me look bad if I’d let you die on our first mission.”

“Nice to see you’re still kicking too,” she agreed with a small smile. Shepard’s hand went to her forehead to help stave off the growing headache. Round three didn’t seem to make the pain any better. “Would have been worse if I’d gotten my mentor killed.”

He laughed, but there was a self-deprecating edge to it.

In the end, Nihlus’ influence and resources didn’t seem to matter. The Council was just as disbelieving of Saren’s guilt as before, and they were possibly even slower to act. Anderson swore up and down about it in private, claiming the Councillors were dumbing down matters of galactic security into nothing more than an intra-office spat.

Without other options, Shepard carried on and history repeated itself. Garrus stopped them outside of the Council chambers and laid out the mountains of red tape that Pallin had dropped on his investigation. For once, the officer didn’t need a leave of absence to try and save the galaxy. No paperwork even, Nihlus just commandeered his aid from C-Sec with a three-lined email.

Wrex came next, though having a Spectre around this time almost chased him off. He remembered dealing with Saren in the past and had no desire to end up ‘disappeared’ if the whole thing went south. Shepard won him over with the promise of free gun mods and a crate of ryncol.

Tali was right where they needed her to be, with the same perfect evidence as before. No one questioned Shepard’s sharp instincts for the location, thank fuck, but Garrus did express surprise that she’d known her way around the Citadel a little _too well_ for a newcomer. She made a mental note to watch herself on that.

Together, they presented the audio file to the Council, with predictable results.

The chase was on with one notable change. Nihlus was alive to teach Shepard how to be a Spectre. There were intelligence networks she’d never heard of, bank accounts for work use, limited access credentials for STG servers, and Blackwatch agents on-call for backup. There was an entire organization behind the Spectres, and she’d never had that support before. Or Nihlus’ standards meet.

He took her on as a student: His first protégé.

\---

Shepard learned that Nihlus was strict but fair as an instructor.

He allowed her to keep command of the _Normandy_ \-- if only because he hated the paperwork that came along with a full crew complement. Though he did steal the captain’s cabin after Anderson left, he claimed privacy, but Shepard was pretty sure it was more about the bunk space. He wasn’t human-sized.

She learned he was an infiltrator by trade, and despite not being biotic, she had to take him seriously in a spar, or he’d pull something ingenious, and she’d be on the ground fast. Shepard hadn’t eaten dirt so many times since she was an N4, though she gave as good as she got. There was something to be said for human flexibility.

It was hard not to find his insight into other cultures fascinating. Nihlus had travelled everywhere, seemed to know everyone, and could get into the head of any species they came across.

On the downside, turian eating habits were a thing of nightmares. Barely cooked meat swallowed whole with _bones_ _in._ With two aboard, they stocked fresh rations more readily than when it had just been Vakarian. Shepard considered it a point of pride that she held her lunch down when she first watched Nihlus eat raw _vret._

The trade-off between military expertise and interspecies difficulties was worth it. Each day, Shepard learned something new and had a conversation she hadn’t had twice already.

It wasn’t until Therum that things went south.

Despite remembering how difficult the battle had been the last two times, nothing could have prepared her for seeing Nihlus’ shields get shattered by the Krogan Battlemaster’s charge. While pinned down and protecting Liara, she watched him catch the follow-up blast of a shotgun straight to the chest.

Her helmet’s heads up display showed Nihlus was dead before he hit the ground. Shepard’s stomach dropped at the sight of all the blue blood that poured from the open chest wound. And had Liara not yelled her name, she might’ve missed the fact the krogan had begun to charge her position next.

She met the Battlemaster with a biotic charge and sent him careening off the edge of the platform into the rising magma pit below them.

There was no time to get Nihlus’ body, not with lava licking at their heels. Shepard did the only thing she could; she grabbed Liara by the wrist and pulled her to safety.

\---

The weeks seemed to drag on after Nihlus’ death. What had first been a panicked few months turned into monotony as Shepard went through the motions once again. She already knew where ‘the skeletons hid,’ so to speak. The Commander already knew her crew and what they needed to get their heads on straight—between Wrex’s armour and taking down Dr. Heart for Garrus. This time it felt almost hollow.

What was the point in rerunning this mission if she died in the end?

No matter how hard she tried to change the outcomes of the fight against Saren, it seemed to pan out the same way. Benezia still died, Virmire still needed to be nuked, and the AI on Luna went rampant.

After saving the Citadel, Shepard tried everything to ensure she wouldn’t end up over Alchera. Her efforts only delayed her death by a few weeks. The Alliance made her go anyway.

As she took her last breath, she let herself cry.

\---


	4. Over

**Over**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

A forlorn sigh left Shepard’s lungs as she turned off her alarm and laid back down in bed. Was this some sort of punishment for failure? Save the galaxy, or-- or an eternity of seeing Kaidan’s smiling face every morning, knowing the exact number of days until she sent him to his death? It didn’t matter that she’d left Ashley to die last time. Things were no different.

Morbid thoughts circled her head as she laid there until even Kaidan noticed her thousand-yard stare.

“All right there, Commander?” he asked. The habit long formed, and words memorized.

“Fine, Lt.” Shepard closed her eyes, blocking out the underside of the top bunk. On the plus side, having a good cry as she died seemed to translate to here and now just the same. She felt exhausted but better for it. Like a little weight was lifted from her chest.

Kaidan didn’t seem to notice. “See you at breakfast!” he said on his way out the door.

\---

“So, I was on Tuchanka,” Nihlus said as he threw a jab toward her head. 

“No way,” Shepard scoffed, parrying the blow and returning with a solid right hook. Nihlus danced out of the way, smooth and quick. “You wouldn’t have survived a minute on Tuchanka.”

He grinned, showing his teeth. “Still skeptical, Shepard?”

“Always.” She had seen him die at the hands of a krogan after all. His mandibles fluttered in the way she’d learned meant amusement before he attacked again, this time with a kick that she narrowly avoided. Nihlus followed it up with a series of punches, forcing her to keep backing up to the edge of the mats. When she managed to get some room back, she decided to indulge him. “So, you were on Tuchanka?”

Somehow a growing disenchantment for living the same year over again translated into a sort of friendship with the council agent. It helped that she’d aced his first Spectre lessons this go around, though he’d just jumped straight into more complex subjects as time went on.

 _“Spectre training is like that,”_ he told her. “It’s _my job to make you better.”_

They started trading stories while sparring out of the blue one day. In typical military fashion, he would always try to one-up her N7 tales with epics from his time in the Spectres. For every hilarious-in-retrospect moment of fucking up during special forces training, the turian would share a mishap from his early days as a recruit. For every embarrassing reveal about screw-ups on missions or pranks played on superior officers, he’d come back around with near-miss days running intel for the Council or story-turned-dossier on other Spectres. They avoided the subject of Saren and Nihlus’ mentorship by unspoken agreement.

Even though she was still learning what his expressions meant, never mind the complex tones under his voice that changed with mood and intent by the second, Shepard found herself drawn to his magnetism. Nihlus Kryik was a unique and dangerous character with a thousand stories to tell and complex motivations.

\---

While the other members of her crew never changed across lifetimes, Nihlus was always coming up with something new. Wrex and Ashley would warm up to her slowly, but she knew their stories now and how to navigate gaining their trust. Tali got excited about all the same things, and Garrus was always bitter about his father. Kaidan and Liara never stopped trying to get in her pants.

Nihlus became her focal point. Shepard knew it was dangerous to hyper-focus on him. He’d died every damn time, but she just didn’t care. His very presence was proof she could avoid errors and that the future could change, and she needed that.

No one got near him on Therum this time. Every day that the chase for Saren continued-- with all crew accounted for-- felt like a monumental success.

Then, Noveria.

There was so much going on, between Liara’s broken sobbing in the wake of her mother’s death to Tali nursing a nasty looking suit puncture. Shepard should have known by now she needed Wrex for crowd control on this mission.

When she and the squad ran to the elevators for safety, a pair of rachni came out from under the walkway and grabbed Nihlus and Liara. Trusting the Spectre to hold his own, Shepard and Tali both bore down on Liara, who wasn’t putting up half the fight she should have been. By the time Shepard whipped around to check on the shout of alarm, Nihlus had gone limp. Not a mark on him, but his eyes were rolled back in his head, vital signs flat and body lifeless.

Liara yammered on about it the whole way back, avoiding the topic of Benezia’s demise in favour of speculating about rachni and their nervous system control abilities. What might backfire if a feral mind tried to dominate a strong-willed person? Shepard could tell the moment the young scientist realized that her continued life came at the cost of Nihlus’. Blue skin paled to sickly, periwinkle, and she promptly clammed up.

\---

More and more on this round, Shepard found herself spending precious downtime sitting at the mess hall table, staring off into the middle distance. Through her first lives, she’d long since memorized the details of Saren’s case and the profiles of her crew. They were-- not friends on this round. Since Nihlus’ death, she’d found it difficult to connect with people.

What was the point?

The year stretched forever. Shepard sighed and ran a hand through her hair; she hadn’t had it cut in who knows how long. The ends were starting to break. It would need a trim soon if she lived long enough.

“Coffee, Commander?” Kaidan said as he placed a steaming mug in front of her, breaking her out of her head.

Glaring at the drink for a moment, Shepard bit back the scathing retort that laid on the tip of her tongue. This Kaidan hadn’t brought her coffee before, she knew that, but it didn’t change the fact she hated coffee.

“Thanks, Alenko,” she said instead without looking at the man. He slunk away to join Joker back in the kitchenette. Her hands closed around the mug, it was warm at least, and maybe it would take some of the ice out of her bones.

Weeks flowed into months. When the time came, Shepard almost embraced it. The life she led was not so pure as the last one. Where there had been short cuts, she’d taken them and avoided responsibility. Killing those in her way was faster than talking people down.

Shepard watched the Normandy burn as the air left her lungs, wishing she had alcohol to toast their shared destiny.

\---


	5. And over

**And over**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“I need... a damn vacation.” Shepard groaned as she shut off the alarm and buried her head beneath the blankets. Maybe if she didn’t acknowledge the day, it wouldn’t happen.

“All right there, Commander?”

“Go away, Alenko,” she snapped without unravelling herself from the cocoon she’d made. Shepard didn’t need to see his face to know it would look like she’d just kicked a puppy. It was the same one he always wore when she turned down his advances.

“Oh, uh. Sure, Commander. No problem.” She could hear the shifting of fabric as he grabbed his hygiene kit from the bunk beside hers, and then cautious footsteps of his boots moving across the deck. The other crew members kept their morning bitching to themselves today.

She sighed, feeling a little bad as the door opened. “See you at breakfast,” she called after Kaidan, and he didn’t acknowledge her.

\---

Learning what made the turian tick was becoming a sort of game.

While Nihlus always started stoic, Shepard had found little ways to make him open up to her faster and faster. He liked his kava strong and almost too hot for her to handle. Asking him about his childhood was a sure-fire way to get thrown across the room when they sparred-- biotic or not. He appreciated the novelty of ink and paper books, even if he had to wear gloves to avoid tearing the pages.

Nihlus didn’t laugh often, but when he did, it was infectious. Shepard learned she loved the rumbling harmonics of that sound most of all.

“No, seriously,” Shepard tried to force her laughter down as Nihlus grinned at her like the cat who’d eaten the canary. “You did not just hang up on them!”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, a gesture he’d only recently picked up from the human crew-- for the first time, she might add. “Tevos was pissing me off.”

“Still!” she shoved his shoulder as they headed for the cockpit, side-by-side. If there were two things she could count on, it was her pilot’s humour and her turian companion’s ability to surprise her.

In the cockpit, Shepard dropped into the navigator’s seat while Nihlus leaned a hip into the side of her chair. He had this way about him, coolly surveying the scene before he made any verbal assessment. He had little regard for personal space, and Shepard didn’t know if that was a Nihlus thing or just a turian one.

After a few minutes of watching Joker’s hands float across his console, the pilot finally turned to them. He scowled at the pair, but Shepard saw right through it. “You know when you hang up on the Council, I still have to deal with them, right?”

For a moment, Shepard managed to keep the smile off her face, but then Nihlus lost his composure, and they both burst out laughing.

These two made life worth living over and over again.

\---

When Nihlus said he wanted to drive, Shepard had no qualms about letting him take the controls. Sitting in the Mako and watching the world go by could be surprisingly relaxing. She climbed up into the gunnery seat and watched the landscape as he learned how to operate the beast of a machine.

“Dammit, turian!” Wrex bellowed from the back of the Mako. “It’s a cliff face, not a damn highway!”

Everyone liked to joke about how terrible a driver she was. It was sort of nice to listen to Wrex gripe about how Nihlus was worse.

Or it was until she heard the telltale screech of a thresher maw. Their seemingly routine mission went straight out the window. Shepard twisted the turret as fast as she could, but the clunky machine was no match for the speed of a maw. Before she knew what was happening, the beast had torn into the Mako.

Turret fire and shotgun blasts from Wrex’s rifle swallowed Nihlus’ screams. The maw might’ve gone down quickly, but not fast enough for Shepard to save Nihlus. Acid burned through his plates before she could get his armour out of the way, and that smell would remain in her nostrils for weeks.

The requisition for a new Mako took them nearly a month and ended with them being unable to make it to Doctor Heart’s coordinates in time. That salarian bastard slipped between her fingers just as Nihlus’ life had.

\---

Shepard let herself spend the rest of this cycle being reckless in battle. It didn’t matter. Nothing ever seemed to get through. No helmet, no problem. Lazy shooting, enemies still went down. Death by mercenary didn’t seem to work. It just meant she spent more time with Karin in the medical bay, at least the woman had good taste in booze.

So later on the petitioner’s stage, when Saren shot her while her shields were down, and the bullet rang true, Shepard couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She coughed blood and damn, did it hurt. But she wouldn’t die over Alchera again. Her vision grew fuzzy as Garrus and Wrex succeeded in killing Saren. She heard the crash of glass before Wrex told Garrus to make sure Saren was dead.

If only he knew what was waiting for him. Shepard tried to warn them but coughed instead. Her throat filled with blood, choking her. It was the krogan who knelt at her side, applying medi-gel to the gaping wound. Wrex called her a reckless idiot but still held her hand as the light faded from her eyes.

Not only did she vow never to let Nihlus drive again, but she also promised herself she would always find Wrex’s family armour. He deserved that closure.

\---


	6. Again

**Again**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard briefly wondered if it was even worth getting out of bed. What was this now? Round nineteen, or maybe twenty. She found she was losing count.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Her lips pursed together as she counted on her fingers and ignored her crewmates groans. Each round had a name now, and she was stuck on round nine.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“All right there, Commander?” Kaidan asked as he shut off the alarm. He never let it go more than three rounds. Shepard took a deep breath and started again.

\---

The longer Nihlus spent on the _Normandy,_ the longer he survived, the more Shepard found herself attracted to him. While hard angles had never done anything for her before, now she found herself catching glimpses of him in the showers after missions.

His moods were as predictable as her own at this point. She learned what ticked him off and what amused him. She stocked everyone’s favourite foods at the first port of call-- much to Nihlus’ surprise-- and Shepard ensured she requisitioned extra pillows before he had a chance to complain about a crick in his neck.

Each cycle gave her more insight into the turian. She could tell now when Nihlus became interested in her too. It was always after their fifth- or sixth-time sparring. She’d let him pin her before turning the tables and throwing him off. She’d watch for the flash of heat in his gaze and tempt him by stretching so he’d see how supportive her waist was.

It was a damn good thing he taught her how to conceal her extranet history from even the best technical experts. Her Omni-tool got a little too much use this time around.

\---

Feros was a disaster.

Despite knowing exactly where she needed to be, it did not change that everyone else was able to move without her say so. When Shepard feigned left, she bumped into Ashley. The moment it took for her to recover was long enough.

Nihlus fell into the pit after the Thorian.

Filled with a mad sort of rage in the heat of the moment, she jumped in after him, Omni-blade out, and she slammed into the side of the plant mass. If felt like the entire planet shook as the creature screamed in pain.

Her fearlessness paid off in a fast end to the Thorian, but the limp pile of black and red armour at the bottom of the fissure still hit her between the ribs like a cargo freighter.

\---

When the _Normandy_ reached Virmire, Shepard was so tired. It didn’t seem to matter what case she made to the Council. Her backup never showed, the remote detonator never worked, leaving it too long meant Saren had a mindless krogan army at his disposal.

It seemed the universe was trying to tell Shepard she needed to make a choice. She couldn’t remember how many times she’d left Kaidan or Ashley behind. No matter which way she played the mission, someone always ended up dying. If not one of them, then the salarians. Hell, she’d even gotten Wrex killed once.

So this time, she let it be her.

Before leaving for the mission, she left notes to her crew with everything they would need to stop Saren once she was no longer able. Shepard didn’t know if this galaxy or alternate universe died with her or not, she’d long since stopped speculating on it. _If_ there was still a galaxy, she gave it the tools to survive.

While her crew got clear with the salarians, she protected the bomb. It felt almost liberating to let it all end here, on her terms. When the world went dark, Shepard hoped she’d never wake up again.

\---


	7. And again

**And again**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

“FUCK!” Shepard screamed at the cot above her. There were several moments of dead silence in the crew quarters, bleary confused eyes peering at her from the other bunks.

“All right there, Commander?” Kaidan asked as he approached the bedside. She threw a pillow at him.

\---

Running low on the will to care about anything at all, Shepard managed her worst cycle yet. Nihlus died on Eden Prime, but not by Saren’s hand. This time it was those damn drones who’d once felled Jenkins. The _drones._ She could have screamed.

When they reached the beacon, Shepard let Kaidan get close to it and didn’t interfere when it began to pull him closer. That didn’t matter either. The glow just threw him across the deck and drew her in instead.

Shepard did scream as the visions flashed across her consciousness, intrusive and blinding. That was when she did scream until the darkness took hold.

\---

Finding herself stuck in an impossible situation with no way out, Shepard decided to disappear. Round twenty-something could suck it.

She handed a datapad to Anderson with every detail the Council races and Earth needed to save themselves on it. Then she booked a passenger flight to a retirement home on Intai’sei that she technically didn’t own yet.

A week passed, filled with nothing but long baths, whiskey, and terrible movies. When Shepard had the urge to turn to Nihlus and comment about the dumb plot for the fifth time, she knew it was time for better distractions. She travelled the galaxy, using her entire bank account in a few months. From climbing mountains on Thessia to bathing in Surkesh’s mud baths, the sense of freedom was like a balm on her weary soul. Waking up each day to nothing familiar was like a breath of fresh air. Between tourist gimmicks and expansive temples, the lonesome woman gained a measure of peace.

By all accounts, she should have been middle-aged by now. Shepard no longer wondered what living as long as an asari was like, she already knew.

\---

When _Sovereign_ appeared on the Citadel, weeks ahead of schedule, Shepard watched the panicked news feeds from the comfort of a small base she’d ‘liberated’ from pirates. Some unusual relay in the Sahrabarik system lit up and poured out Collectors by the thousands a few days later, followed shortly thereafter by a mass appearance of Reapers. Dozens of the dreadnought-sized fuckers arrived by the day.

When the reaping caught up to her, it was surprisingly easy to sit and watch the ten-meter beam approach while sipping the last of her beer. She raised her bottle, saluting the monstrosity: “Same time last year?”

For the first time in a while, she had the faintest notion of looking forward to Kaidan’s awful morning cheer, and the squad’s familiar, if repetitive, bickering. But most of all, she wanted to see Nihlus’ face and work her way into his good books. She missed his lessons, his calm demeanour, and neverending stories-- the sense of comradery she felt in his presence after the first few weeks.

Shepard may have been used to dying, but she was ready to live again, too.

\---


	8. Too many times

**Too many times**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard shut off her alarm, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

It didn’t matter if she missed Joker’s ‘first’ jump. She’d seen it countless times, twenty-seven she thought, and he was always within 1500k of his mark. His perfection never ceased to impress Nihlus, and Anderson would still be pleased.

If this round was going to be as painful as the last, she wanted to catch some solid shut-eye before shit started to hit the fan. The bliss of her vacation loop only lasted twice over. While it felt good to see Nihlus and the rest of the crew again, having them not know her had started to grate.

There was nothing for it; she knew that. But the blank expressions when she made a joke that didn’t connect with people, and the confused stares when she knew something personal she shouldn’t have, hurt like dying couldn’t.

\---

Shepard stood at the armoury door and took a deep breath. She was about to ruin her relationship with Nihlus _again._ Her hand hovered over the entry panel, and the Commander almost didn’t push it. She hated the way Nihlus looked at her like she was crazy after this discussion. How he would have Chakwas give her a brain scan and sometimes even kick her off the mission because of it.

But nothing else worked.

None of the other crew members even came close to believing her when she said she was looping, at least Shepard could get Nihlus to _try._

The doors slid open, revealing the Spectre and likely the last friendly head nod she’d see from him. He glanced up momentarily before focusing his attention back on his pistol. Shepard walked across the room and sat down across from him, watching his hands move as he cleaned the barrel.

After a while, the silence started to eat away at Shepard. She gave in first. She always did against the stone wall that was Nihlus’ patience. “So, Nihlus.” He didn’t look up, just acknowledged her with a slight hum. “You know me pretty well by now, right?”

That caught his attention. The turian’s hands slowed, and he slotted the trigger guard back into place before setting the weapon down. “I would say so,” he agreed while wiping his talons on a rag. “There a reason you’re being cryptic?”

Her mouth quirked to the side, and she shrugged. “Maybe.”

His right mandible drifted out as he waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he prompted with a twirl of his fingers. “Well?”

“Okay,” Shepard took a deep breath. She’d tried this before, more than a few times, but this round, she had the script down. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I need you to trust me and let me speak. Can you do that?”

Nihlus blinked once as he processed the odd request. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Go ahead.”

“When you were seven,” confusion flashed across his face for a brief second, and Shepard cleared her throat. “When you were seven, you lost a stuffed varren who you’d named Trebia after a sun you’d never seen.”

“Shepard--”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. This story was extremely personal to him. He’d only told her on the last round when they’d started getting closer than mentor and protégé. Something so personal, he confessed he’d never told a soul. “He was a gift from the first asari you’d ever met, Matron T’Elise.”

“Shep--”

“No. Let me finish.” She could see his hand tightening on the table. “You lost him in a fire. The school burned down. It was a batarian pirate raid.” He tried to interrupt again, but she couldn’t let him. Her voice raised so that it was louder than his warning growl. “It was the same day you killed someone for the first time. You picked--”

“Enough!” Nihlus shouted, standing up so fast his stool fell over and clanged against the metal deck. “Who told you that?” he snarled, unable to keep his anger to himself. It was rare he got passionate enough to lose his temper, even after years working alongside him-- different versions of him-- Shepard had only seen it a handful of times and never directed at her.

“You did,” Shepard said placidly. Her calm demeanour seemed to piss him off more.

“I did no such thing!” He rounded the table.

Shepard held her ground, standing too if only to help even the height difference. She was glad she wore armour; it made her feel less vulnerable. “I told you it was going to sound crazy.”

He growled in answer. A sound she knew meant: _explain._

“I’ve been… experiencing a time loop. Every time I die, I end up back on the _Normandy_ , the day we picked you up. I told you to tell me a story you’d never told anyone before. That was the one you chose last time.”

“Last time?” Confusion started to war with his anger. His shoulders lowered, and his mandibles relaxed ever so slightly against his maxilla.

“Yep,” Shepard made a popping sound over the ‘p’ as she nodded. A small smile made its way onto her lips, a pitying one. “Time loop. This, right here and now, isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and I’m sorry for bringing up Trebia.”

Nihlus stared at her for a long moment. “You’re insane.”

“Sadly, no. I’ve been checked.”

He stared at her, mouth agape.

\---

When it came down to it, just like everyone else, Nihlus didn’t want to believe her. He didn’t care that she knew everything about him, or that she could speak asari common fluently despite no history in her records of language training. He explained her skills and foreknowledge of galactic events away as though it was some kind of intuition. Chakwas scanned her brain, and Nihlus even had her checked when they arrived on the Citadel next-- the Spectre’s doctor came up empty too.

Admittedly, this was the closest Shepard had ever been to having someone listen. She was so close, but then again, did it even matter anymore?

When the time to attack Virmire came around, Shepard decided to try something different. She had Nihlus protect the bomb. For the few times he’d made it this far before, he’d always been at her side-- trying to talk Saren down. It never worked, but each time she wanted to give him the chance to try and save his mentor.

That didn’t change the outcome either. There was still no time to save everyone. This round was no different than all the rest, and now Shepard would have the guilt of Nihlus’ death on her conscience right beside Wrex, Kaidan and Ashley.

The elevator ride up to the briefing room was silent as always, albeit a little more cramped than usual with the entire squad-- sans Nihlus. As the _Normandy_ sped away from the surface of Virmire, Shepard cursed herself, glad of her helmet that hid her puffy, red eyes from the rest of the team. She hadn’t let the tears fall yet, but they threatened to.

A buzz in her ear made Shepard perk up. A quick few clicks had her comm unit engaging. In his final moments, Nihlus called her over their private channel.

 _“Guess I should have listened,”_ he greeted, sounding somewhat amused if a little tired. In the background, Shepard could hear gunfire as he fought off the last wave. “ _About the looping, I mean.”_

Shepard’s hand balled into a fist as she waved the rest of the squad ahead of her. She’d meet them in the briefing room. “I didn’t mean for it to come to this, Nihlus. I had to try something else.”

His huff in answer almost sounded like a laugh. _“Well, if there is a next time? There’s something else you should try. Sing me a song.”_

“A song?” She blinked despite herself.

 _“Mm-hm….”_ His hum was long and thoughtful. “ _Lora Lie Lo. It’s the only thing I remember about my Mari. If you sing it, I’ll know you’re truthful.”_

“Okay. I’ll learn.” Shepard grit her teeth.

_“Give the Reapers hell for me, will you?”_

“You bet.” She could already feel the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. Her voice felt rough as she choked out: “Sing it for me?”

“Of course,” he cleared his throat and then it was as though Shepard could feel him through her headset. While Shepard had heard turians sing before, nothing could have prepared her for this. She slid down to the floor, her back against the wall, as she listened.

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay_

_“I’ll fly for you_

_My child, my sun_

_Sweet dreams to you_

_My only one_

_“I’ll fly for you_

_My child, my sun_

_Sweet dreams, my only one_

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay-”_

Nihlus didn’t get a chance to finish the song. The bomb exploded, and her helmet made a satisfying clang as it impacted the elevator wall. She watched it roll back until it came to a stop at her side, broken and useless as she felt. Tears streamed down Shepard’s cheeks, and she waited in the elevator for a long time. The will to get up lost as the song echoed in her head.

\---

Death was inevitable.

Saren went down, as did the abomination that became of him afterward. Shepard lived through it, a mere husk of herself until the day over Alchera. 

When she was blown into space and spinning around and around again watching her home burn and her final resting place grow closer, Shepard could only think of one thing. Nihlus’ last words would become her own.

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay.”_

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for this chapter is courtesy of Amazon's Carnival Row, Lora Lie Lo by Patty Gurdy. Listen here on [**Youtube**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJhBVp2H53o) or [**Spotify**](https://open.spotify.com/track/1X2C9skCLBS2Rw4n6LpcGi?si=xN_tnI9oSNe2ErkUIPlfpQ).


	9. Until something changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the music for this chapter is courtesy of Amazon's Carnival Row, Lora Lie Lo by Patty Gurdy. Listen here on [**Youtube**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJhBVp2H53o) or [**Spotify**](https://open.spotify.com/track/1X2C9skCLBS2Rw4n6LpcGi?si=xN_tnI9oSNe2ErkUIPlfpQ).

**Until something changed**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard reached over and shut off the alarm, her cheeks somehow damp with tears. Her head buzzed with the song Nihlus sung to her, as it had for months. She let out a shaky breath and wiped her face.

A shadow appeared over her. Opening her eyes, she found Kaidan staring down with a concerned look on his face-- like he didn’t know what to do. “All right there, Commander?”

“Fine, Alenko,” she sat up, forcing him to back off, and scrubbed her eyes. “Just a bad night, that’s all.”

The concern didn’t disappear as she’d hoped it would. Kaidan sat down next to her and tentatively put a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the curious glances from a few of the other crew members. “We all get those sometimes. All we can do is keep getting up, right?”

Shepard fought off a smile and huffed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Kaidan replied, patting her shoulder once before standing. He seemed pleased with himself. “I’ll see you at breakfast then? Nothing like the chef’s reconstituted eggs and some simulated bacon to get your day back on track.”

She laughed. “See you there.”

The man stood up and swiped his hygiene kit from the foot of his bed before heading out the door. Maybe this cycle, she’d simply live.

\---

Emboldened by the last twenty-odd years, Shepard had most of the cycle down to a science. She aced her Spectre lessons with Nihlus and knew her way around every mission. Shepard had time to binge-watch another terrible holo series and read the accompanying novels while learning to bake levo and dextro cookies-- much to her friends’ delight. She even started a Skyllian Five tournament on the _Normandy_ between planet falls.

Games of chance managed to still be fun even after all these years, as did the magic of the extranet. With thousands of years of history to explore and multiple species’ works, Shepard could admit to finding amusement in some of the strangest places. She’d made peace with her life by now, even if it was always 2183.

Shepard could also admit that she preferred loops on the _Normandy,_ even if she did usually die over Alchera. It meant the rest of the galaxy was safe from the Reapers for at least a little longer. On her vacations, she never made it longer than March of 2184. That and her crew had become her family. She knew everyone so well and knew exactly how to bring out the best in each of them.

She’d given up trying to convince them of her loops, too.

Wrex turned out to be a big softie when it came to children, not that he’d admit it. Tali loved cheesy romance vids and could always be convinced to curl up in the cargo bay and watch them projected on the walls. Ashley just about died and went to heaven when Shepard took her to a poetry reading on the Citadel. Garrus came out of his shell slower than the rest, but he was the biggest nerd, and she could always push his buttons.

Kaidan could always be convinced to cook her the perfect steak. Liara would always be so patient as she tried to teach Shepard to dance-- ten first lessons and counting.

Yes, living on the _Normandy_ and chasing Saren was the best way to live.

\---

It was late in the night cycle. The rest of the crew had long gone to bed, but Shepard sat awake in the mess hall, her back to the stairs. In front of her was a mess of plastic parts, tools, and glue. Dubyansky had knocked over Grendo’s model _Destiny Ascension,_ breaking it horribly. Models had always been something Shepard enjoyed-- even before the loops-- so she’d just scooped up all the pieces and set to work.

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay.”_

Shepard hummed to herself as she pieced the hull back together, the lyrics were never far from her mind. Music calmed her down, this song particularly so as she could remember with perfect clarity how she felt when Nihlus sang to her in the last loop. Although, strangely enough, Shepard never managed to find a copy of it on the extranet. She chalked it up to alien obscurities, Nihlus had never told her which colony he called home. He so rarely spoke of his childhood that she’d never gleaned it in conversation.

The reason for her distraction tonight was the most loathed part of Shepard’s loops. The _Normandy_ was en route to Virmire. It was time to make a choice. Shepard found it easier to go in knowing who would be staying with the bomb; it made the moment less jarring. The crew followed her easier when she was decisive, rather than wavering.

_“I’ll fly for you_

_My child, my sun_

_Sweet dreams to you_

_My only one.”_

Virmire meant they were nearing the end of her year. Shepard had spent decades agonizing over her choices, over the lives that would disappear along with hers. Maybe dying alongside her was better, rather than waiting for the Reapers to come and kill them all anyway. She caught her lip between her bottom teeth as she carefully replaced a panel.

_“I’ll fly for you_

_My child, my sun_

_Sweet dreams, my only one.”_

The piece stuck, and she moved on to the next. Shepard had been about to head into the final verses when someone else did for her. She turned to see Nihlus leaning against the wall with his arms crossed under his keel and his eyes softer than she’d ever seen them. It was his deep baritone that finished the song and gave it all the depth her human voice could not.

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay._

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay.”_

“Nihlus--” Shepard dropped the tweezers and they, like a pin dropping, clanged loudly over the soft hum of the Normandy’s drive core. “I-- I--” She hadn’t been ready for this! She didn’t want Nihlus to think she was crazy, not again.

His arms dropped, and he crossed the room to sit across from her. Shepard was frozen. For a moment, he said nothing and only stared at the broken bits of plastic between them. When he did speak, his voice was rough with heartache. “How do you know that song?”

The question was so innocent, yet it would open Shepard back up to a world of heartache all her own. The loss of trust that came with her admission would hurt just as much as inevitably losing him would. He’d never made it to the Citadel to battle against Saren.

“An old friend sang it for me once,” she replied as if staving off the answer would keep him looking at her like he was now.

“A friend?” he questioned, his brow plates drew into his face. “It’s a turian song, Shepard. As far as you’ve said, you don’t have many turian friends.”

She half-shrugged. “I don’t have many friends at all.”

“Not true,” he smiled, mandibles flaring ever-so-slightly, then gestured to the model. “They may be your crew, but I’ve never seen a Commander who knows theirs as well as you do. You care.”

“It’s hard not to,” she mumbled in reply, staring at the tweezers to avoid staring at him instead. Shepard didn’t want to have this conversation, but she knew she couldn’t lie to him even if she tried. In twenty-nine years, she’d never figured it out.

Nihlus hummed in agreement and sat forward with his elbows on the table and hands folded in front of him. “So, be truthful to me, Shepard.” He paused, waiting for her to nod before asking: “Have we met before?”

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said gently. “Have we met before?”

Very slowly, Shepard nodded. “Yes.”

“More than once?”

“Yes.”

He breathed out in a rush before leaning back in his chair and laughing. It wasn’t harsh laughter, more like relief? “Damn, I am so glad you said that,” Nihlus admitted once he calmed down. “I thought I was going insane.”

“Excuse me, what?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her heart pounded in her chest. _Did Nihlus just admit to looping too?_

The turian scrubbed his face with his hands. “Damn, I’m sorry.”

“Are you--”

“No. No, this is the first time I’ve met you. Or well, the first time I remember anyway. But there was something so-- off? I suppose. I mean, no one is this perfect.” He gestured to her, as though that meant something. Shepard just blinked and furrowed her brow. “Sorry. Let me explain. You knew my kava order before I’d even had a cup in front of you, which in and of itself isn’t so weird, maybe you’d just researched me. Like I had you.”

“Oh-- okay?”

“But it wasn’t just that. You knew everyone’s order,” Nihlus stood up and started pacing, counting out things on his fingers as he went. “Tali, Wrex, Garrus. No way you’d anticipated those three randoms joining us and have had the time to search for that tiny detail. Not even Saren’s research was _that_ thorough.”

He paused, turning toward her again. “Then there were the lessons. You knew _everything_ I tried to teach you. Some of it better than me, I might add! But I’ve seen your test scores, you shouldn’t know shit about quantum mechanics-- yet there you were buzzing through the lessons as if they were basic mathematics.” He pulled out his chair, sitting backwards in it with his forearms resting on the chair back. “It’s impossible. You’re impossible. Unless, well, I don’t actually know. Would you mind filling me in on that last part?”

Nihlus finally took a moment to breathe as he sat down. He patiently steepled his hands and lingered, like a varren pup waiting for a treat.

“So, if I told you I live in a time loop, you’d believe me?” Shepard watched his face, waiting for his expression to shift to anger or disbelief, but it never came.

Instead, he said: “Tell me everything.”

\---

After Virmire, it became apparent that neither Shepard nor Nihlus’ feelings were strictly platonic. Growing closer became so much easier with the knowledge of the loops out in the open. Shepard had told Nihlus everything, and their relationship seemed to shift afterward. He seemed to treat _her_ as the mentor instead of the other way around. She talked him through missions, explained everything she knew about Saren and the Geth and the Reapers. He listened and, beyond all her hopes, believed her without question.

A month later, their deepened bond led them into a closer relationship. Shepard took little convincing without the strict bounds of mentor and student, and Nihlus saw no reason not to-- they were equals and consenting adults. In turian culture, that was all that mattered.

Shepard found more excuses to touch Nihlus casually, and he tended to lean into them when she did. Their sparring sessions became more frequent and more than once devolved quickly into kissing.

“Someone is going to notice!” Shepard complained as she attempted to cover up the reddened skin on her neck with her collar. Nihlus had been particularly thorough during this particular makeout-- er sparring session.

He laughed, his grin cocky and teasing. “You think they don’t know already?”

Turning a glare on him, Shepard almost bit out a scathing reply, but Nihlus was on her too quickly, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her again. “You think they do?” she asked against his mouth.

“Mm-hm.” He placed another peck on her lips. “You should have seen Alenko’s face. He walked in just as I sat you down on the console.”

Shepard could feel the blush bloom across her face. “NIHLUS!”

All of their frustrations continued to build until the night before Illos, which was how she wound up sprawled across Nihlus’ chest late in the cycle. Around them, the _Normandy_ hummed as she sped toward their goal.

Shepard slowly traced her way up the indentation between two of Nihlus’ plates. Her touch held just enough pressure for him to feel, and it made him shiver as they came down from their exertion. His warm purr disappeared into her hair as he nuzzled in and took a deep inhale of her scent.

“Tired?” he asked, a little sleepily himself.

“No. You get some rest, though. I’ll be here when you wake up.” With the end of their mission looming just hours away, Shepard wanted to take all the time she could get.

“Shepard?” Nihlus rolled her onto her back, rising above her on one elbow so he could see her face. His hand cupped her jaw, and his thumb was so warm as he caressed her cheek.

She already knew what he was going to ask. It was the only question she refused to answer: _how she died._ It didn’t seem right to burden Nihlus, not with the threat of the Reapers and the inevitability of it all. Running wouldn’t change anything, the Collectors would find her even if it wasn’t over the ball of ice and snow.

“Nihlus?” she parroted in the same tone, making him smile as she touched his face in kind. This close, she could see every chip in his colony paint and the intense focus in his gaze.

“You won’t tell me, will you?”

“No, Love. I won’t.”

He sighed and leaned down to press his lips against her jaw in an approximation of a kiss. “Even if I beg?” He teased along her throat. “Even if I never let you out of this bed?” His kisses dropped further down toward her collar bones.

Shepard couldn’t help but giggle as his mandibles tickled her neck. “Not even then.”

Nihlus stopped short of her breasts and rose to look her in the eyes again, green on brilliant green. His expression had dropped into seriousness, and he held her gaze. “At least tell me it isn’t tomorrow?” he whispered so quietly that she could barely hear him.

“It’s not,” she replied with one hand on his shoulder, her fingers digging into his plates to keep him from leaving. “I promise.”

He brushed her cheek, and they kissed once more.

\---

After the Battle of the Citadel, Shepard officially made it to the rank of Spectre. It had never taken her this long before, not that she could find it in herself to care. The change in status would do nothing to protect her from what came next, but she could take comfort in the fact Nihlus was not only alive, but he remained aboard the _Normandy._

“It’s not uncommon for Spectres to work in pairs,” he told her.

She’d simply smiled and agreed to his terms: _that they share the captain’s cabin._

Shepard tried to make the most of the time they had left; shore leave on the Citadel and fighting geth in the Terminus systems side-by-side. Already, she missed their little touches and the heated looks he’d give her when no one else was paying attention. Going back to being _just_ a Spectre candidate wasn’t what Shepard wanted, not at all. Maybe in the next loop, she’d take another vacation so that she didn’t need to see him look at her without feeling.

It wouldn’t be long now. The cycle would come to an end soon enough.

Resigned to her fate, Shepard allowed Joker to set a course for the Amada system. If she died, it would be on her terms. She’d written a letter for Nihlus and set it to send in a week. The Collectors were never precisely on schedule, so Shepard wasn’t sure precisely when they’d show, but it would be soon.

They were having lunch when the first warning alarms engaged. Shepard and Nihlus were on their feet before the rest of the squad, and she shouted orders to abandon ship before they reached the armour lockers-- something she’d done every time since her second loop. If Nihlus hadn’t known something was amiss before, he knew it now.

Shepard was about to put her helmet on when Nihlus grabbed her wrist. She turned to look up at him, his eyes were wide, and his mandibles pulled tight against his face. The panicked expression held all the words he didn’t try to speak over the sound of the alarms.

Without time to explain, she rose on her toes and kissed him for the last time. His arms wrapped around her, and he poured every bit of emotion into this one moment. Shepard didn’t think as she snapped the chain of her dog tags from her neck and shoved them into Nihlus’ fist, closing his fingers around them. She wouldn’t need them any longer, and maybe a piece of her would help him in the years to come.

When they broke apart, Shepard could feel her lower lip quivering. She knew the tears would follow soon.

Their helmets went on simultaneously, cutting them off from one another. It made running for the cockpit simpler. Kaidan was already below deck, helping evacuate the crew. This time, in his place, it was Nihlus on her heels. In the CIC, she went straight for the command console.

“Distress beacon launched!” She announced.

“Will the Alliance get here in time?” Nihlus steadied her as the ship shook around them. His voice held a desperate edge.

“The Alliance won’t abandon us,” came her non-answer. “We just need to hold on. Get everyone onto the escape shuttles.” Shepard grabbed one of the fire extinguishers and tamed the blaze so she could move toward the cockpit. “Joker is still trying to hold her together. I need to get him!”

“I’m not leaving you, Shepard!”

Shepard grabbed his arm. “I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles. I’ll take care of Joker.”

“No!” Nihlus tore his arm out of her grasp. “We do this together.”

It was no use. The turian wasn’t like Ashley or Kaidan or Liara. Nihlus refusing to leave her side meant something was going different from the script. It made her fear for his safety. He’d always died before. What if he died instead of her this way? An errant beam could hit him like it did Pressly or, like Gladstone, he could disappear into space or-- or--

Nihlus didn’t give her a choice, and he ran ahead toward the cockpit. She growled to herself but sprinted after him. She wouldn’t let it end like this. Not when she could save them both. Not when Nihlus was so close to making it out alive.

It was the turian who threw the pilot over his shoulder and led them across the ship, leaving Shepard to follow at his heels. His long strides had them across the frigate faster than before. 

They made it to the escape pods with barely any time to spare. Nihlus put Joker down rather roughly in front of the pod door, too tall to carry the man through it. Shepard forced Nihlus into the escape pod after Joker, just in time for the last explosion-- the one that had killed her tens of times over. Nihlus knew a second too late what she was doing. He turned around to see her fist closing the door from the outside as the shockwave stole her.

Shepard collided with the wall on the other side of the room, swept away by a blast. The door came down between them, slamming shut with all the force it could muster. 

_“Shepard!”_ he yelled through the comms, and for a moment, she could see him pounding on the glass before the vastness of space rapidly put distance between them. And, damn, if that expression didn’t break what remained of her heart. How was she going to look at him again after this? “ _Shepard!”_

The air left faster this time, leaving behind only a hypoxic moment of clarity. 

At last, she’d done it. She’d saved Nihlus.

This time when Shepard breathed her last breath, it was with a smile in her eyes and a song on her ringing in her head: “ _\-- Lay lo, Lay lo, Lay, Lay.”_

\---


	10. And this time

**And this time**

\---

Shepard fully expected to wake-up to her blaring alarm clock and the sight of the top bunk above her. Instead, bright overhead lights burned her eyes, and people she didn’t know were talking about her like she wasn’t even there. Her heart rate shot through the roof as panic set in.

Beeping started, but it wasn’t the clock. The sound pitched higher, and when she waved her arms to try and shut it off, someone grabbed her wrist. Shepard felt short of breath, and the world fogged around her. The beeping got louder.

Then-- nothing.

The sound faded away, and she found herself back in the darkness.

\---

An explosion rocked Shepard awake.

Where the incessant beeping of her alarm used to be, there was a disembodied voice. Her eyes opened to an all-white room, her nose filled with the smell of antiseptic, and her body ached more than she could ever remember. There was no bunk room, no Kaidan asking her if she was all right, no _Normandy,_ and no Nihlus.

_“Shepard, your scars aren’t healed, but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack.”_

Carefully, she sat up. Pain making her dizzy. Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy in her mouth like she’d been asleep too long. There were instructions shouted at her, something about a pistol. When Shepard looked around, she could only see equipment and then shots outside the room, brightly flaring down the hallway.

The woman yelling at her over a comm system got more impatient. _“Get moving!”_

And so she did. Shepard forced herself to stand on aching legs and hobble for the equipment locker. If she somehow managed to break the loop, she was damn sure she wasn’t going to die now. Not when she had to find Nihlus. The thought of him made her heart clench and throat drier, but it kept her moving, and that was all that mattered.

Everything felt off as she fought her way through the station. It felt like she was trying to shoot offhand while testing an experimental new biotic amp. Shepard’s flare tore at the edges and was without the clean lines she’d learned to hone in her years looping. She tripped over her own feet more than once; the boots were new and stiff.

As she ran, Shepard started to notice yellow and black Cerberus symbols on the bodies of the dead. Blood and smoke and screams filled her head. Memories of the projects she shut down with her squad on the _Normandy_ flashed through her brain. Where was she? How did she get onto a Cerberus station? Was she captured? Had she been scooped up from the vacuum of space so quickly that she _didn’t_ die?

It wasn’t until the Commander was securely in an escape shuttle, hurdling away from the station that Shepard let the answers to some of those questions sink in.

She’d been dead for _two years._

As she stood in front of a holographic projection of the so-called Illusive Man, all she felt violated. Vitriol rose in her throat as she snarled at him. “Keep your list. I want people I trust-- the ones who helped me stop Saren and the geth.”

The bastard helpfully reminded her that two years of her life were gone, they moved on. Her spine tightened like a bowstring and grew more taught as he listed off where her squadmates had gone, or at least the ones he knew. 

“The Spectre is back to working for the Council. I assume he’s on a deep-cover assignment. Even my best intel scouts haven’t managed to find him.”

Her hand curled into a fist, and Shepard bit her lip to stop an outburst. Finding them on her own wouldn’t be easy. She already knew that. But what else could she do when those people had become her family, her entire reason to keep going through those loops. Like hell she was going to follow The Illusive Man’s advice to go to Omega, she needed her Spectre status. She needed Nihlus.

\---

Neither Lawson nor Taylor approved of the trip to the Citadel, but Shepard ignored them and had Joker set course before she took the time to investigate the new _Normandy._ It felt wrong to call it that. Like a child had died and they’d named its sibling number two. 

While the frigate’s sharp lines reminded her of home, the hallways were too bright and sterile. The ceilings rose too high, and there was too much open space for a starship. Shepard felt exposed, wandering each of the decks, casually introducing herself to the Cerberus crew. People who didn’t salute her yet called her Commander. Shepard almost laughed at the title. A bunch of terrorists were calling her their leader.

She _hated_ it.

By the time Shepard made it to the deck the-- wildly illegal-- AI had directed her to, she felt exhausted down to her bones. A sense of ache and longing made her want to curl up in the overly large bed and maybe cry for a while, but that wasn’t how Nihlus taught her to behave. She would at least do him proud and check the place for bugs before collapsing.

The day dragged on until Shepard was sure the room was clean. Between the teachings of all her tech experts on the original _Normandy_ and a brief extranet search on new equipment, she was reasonably confident the only listening device that remained was EDI. And the AI could be silenced with the simple click of a button on her Omni-tool.

The bed turned out to be as comfortable as it looked. Shepard sunk into the mattress in a pair of sweats she found in the cabinet on her search for bugs. Angry, orange scars plagued her skin, and Shepard was quick to cover them with her sleeves. They were a stark reminder of the two years she’d lost, and of all those people she knew she’d lost.

When the tears came, there was no cathartic feeling as there had been before. When the Commander woke the next morning, it still wasn’t to the beeping of her alarm clock and Kaidain asking her if she was all right. Upon stepping onto the bridge, Nihlus’ stoic form didn’t greet her, nor did the stark smell of Pressly’s too strong coffee.

“Hey, Commander,” Jeff greeted as he spun in his chair and started on about how the leather was comfortable even if the company wasn’t.

For all the internal turmoil, at least there was Joker.

\---

Shepard watched the _Normandy’s_ arrival at the Citadel from the co-pilot’s seat. The arms were wide open, the station’s brightly lit wards shone even from this distance. It helped her to catch her breath and remove some of the weight from her heart. The last time she’d seen the Citadel, it was still close to the battle with _Sovereign._ It had been in ruins. 

There was at least some semblance of normalcy to it all. Or there was until the _Normandy_ was put into a holding pattern to await a docking bay.

“Understood, Citadel Control. Entering the hold at bearing 080, mark 125,” Joker said, his tone utterly professional and so unlike his usual drawl. “Expecting further clearance in 3 standard hours.”

“Three hours?” Shepard mumbled, settling further back into the-- admittedly comfortable-- chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Jeff didn’t bother to look up from his panel as he adjusted their course. “That’s pretty decent, actually. Must be a holdover from before. Controllers always like ships named _Normandy.”_ He glanced over and grinned. “Relax, Commander. Watch the stars, grab a snack. It’s going to be a while.”

Shooting him a glare, Shepard sighed. “Really? Three hours is decent?”

“Someone’s missing their Spectre status,” he teased.

Still grumbling, the Commander rose from the seat and headed aft. She knew Joker was only trying to help, but the lack of Spectre status was a sore spot Shepard couldn’t forget. At least she could use the time to review more of what she’d missed in the past two years. Mountains of information filled her inbox, and Shepard hadn’t even managed to look outside of the leading news channels yet.

She sorely missed access to her network. It had all been shut down when she died, probably by Nihlus. Shepard bit her cheek to stop herself from emoting and spent the next two and a half hours bent over her console, reading.

Slipping away from the Cerberus numpties on the Citadel felt like pulling on an old pair of gloves. The anonymity of wandering a crowded space in plain sight helped to regain some semblance of her former self. In civilian clothing, she was just another human in the masses. 

There were a lot more humans than she remembered from the last time she’d been here. Everywhere she looked, Shepard could see at least a few congregating. Hell, even the C-Sec officers were more human now than asari. At least a reasonable number of turians presented themselves. 

But that wasn’t the only difference she noticed, looking around Shepard found shops had altered and gardens had moved. While the Presidium lake still rounded the curve as she found her way to the Human Embassy, it felt wrong. Like someone moved everything an inch to the right. She couldn’t place a finger on what had changed. 

That sense of wrongness followed Shepard into her meeting with Anderson and the rest of the Council. She entered in the middle of it and was without any time to explain herself to her old CO first or prepare for the onslaught that came on.

 _“Ah, yes. Reapers.”_ Sparatus’ hands raised and-- Did he just put quotations around _Reapers?_ Shepard felt a surge of anger, and she hardly heard that they’d _‘dismissed that claim.’_

By the end of the conference, Shepard had her Spectre status reinstated but without any of her resources. It was a mere token gesture that was meaningless in a time of Reapers and abductions of entire colonies. Her rage simmered barely beneath the surface and nearly made her bark at Anderson when he wouldn’t tell her what came of Nihlus or even Kaidan. He could confirm they were alive but nothing else.

By the time she returned to the _Normandy,_ Shepard felt herself coming apart at the seams. Her cabin felt like a prison, and her skin crawled. Without another option, she told EDI to inform the crew they were setting a course for Omega. At least there, she could take out her frustrations and maybe start to find some answers.

\---


	11. She couldn’t sleep

**She couldn’t sleep**

\---

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Shepard shot up from the bed, her heart in her throat. The room was dark, lit only by a blue glow. Looking to her right, she expected to see Kaidan with a concerned look on his face and turning away from a half-made bunk. What she saw instead was the armour locker inside her large cabin on the new _Normandy._

Her disappointment was interrupted by a second set of beeps. Shepard hit the alarm clock to shut the damn thing off before it could inundate her with a third round. 

The world felt eerily quiet without the noise. Shepard hadn’t gotten used to the hum of the new drive core. For years, she’d slept in the company of her crewmates on the _Normandy._ When she’d taken rounds of vacation, it was always easy to find someone to take to bed when she wished. Being forever thirty did have its benefits.

But her mind was stuck on where she’d slept in this last loop, cuddled in Nihlus’ arms or sprawled across his chest. A lump formed in her throat, and Shepard forced herself to her feet. 

A shower was in order if she was going to feel human enough to survive this day. At least Cerberus had thought to give her a private lav. The water heated quickly, and steam billowed out from the spray as she stepped inside. Her sleep hadn’t been so deep as the first night when she’d exhausted herself with battle. 

\---

Omega was the same cesspool Shepard remembered from her loops. The smell alone was unforgettable, but the undercurrent of desperation was there too. She could feel that in her bones, and it made her tighten her grip around the pistol on her hip as she walked through the docking bay in search of the Queen: Aria.

Even without two years gone, Shepard knew well enough to know that the asari would still be in control of the station. She’d spent one loop here, learning how the station worked and building up a repertoire of knowledge-- most of which would be useless by now.

The looks of disgust thrown at her and the two Cerberus branded humans behind her did not escape the Commander’s notice. She glared when appropriate and snarled at a pair of vorcha who dared get in her way as they traversed the markets. It was stupid to travel alone on Omega, and that was the only reason she allowed them to accompany her. In the loop, she hired guns from Aria to show her around, not that the Queen would remember that now.

Stepping inside Afterlife did nothing to settle the nerves.

The music boomed, and alcohol flowed. Bodies writhed on the dancefloor with a sense of desperation that could not be matched elsewhere in the galaxy. It did not matter that the time was barely midday on the standard clock, Omega moved at its own pace.

Shepard scanned the room before finding her target. Aria sat on her throne with a glass of something resting precariously in her hand. They locked eyes for a moment. One of Aria’s brows rose, and she indicated to come forward with a slight tilt of her head.

Stopped only for a moment by one of her henchmen taking a scan, Shepard met Aria on her throne. She sat down beside the asari and let her do the talking. She’d heard the grand speech before, _don’t fuck with Aria._ Shepard could manage that.

“So, what do you need from me?” Aria leaned forward, her glass now between her knees and held only by the tips of her fingers.

They spoke of the salarian scientist first. The results were as expected, the information in exchange for something at a later date. But now Shepard knew she’d be dealing with a plague. _Wonderful._

When she asked after the turian vigilante, the asari’s face grew serious. “You and half of Omega. You want him dead, too?”

“I’m putting a team together; he’s on my list.” Shepard shrugged and tried not to look too intrigued. It didn’t fool Aria.

“Interesting,” she sat back and crossed one long leg over the other, giving off a sense of superiority and ease. “You’re going to make some enemies teaming up with Archangel.”

As if anything could ever be easy. Shepard sighed and took the rest of the information the asari would give. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but having someone other than Cerberus at her back couldn’t hurt. If anything, diversifying her squad would at least help give the impression the terrorist organization worked for her, and not the other way around.

\---

Blood coated the front of Shepard’s armour.

As the door to the medical bay closed, she was cut off from Garrus and left with the stark realization that she no longer knew the future. Her hands shook, and when she looked down at them, she found her gauntlets stained in the same brilliant cobalt as the rest of her.

Garrus was Archangel, and Shepard hadn’t seen it coming.

While she stood staring at the red lock on the door, her friend was dying, and it was all her fault. If she had just listened to The Illusive Man, she would have been on Omega sooner. The mercenaries had been trying to get him for three days. Instead, she ran to the comfort of the Citadel and the Council’s arms. They believed her insane and only reinstated her in name due to some lingering sense of gratitude. There were no resources at her disposal as there should have been-- no funds or fancy Spectre equipment or medical equipment.

Shepard found herself on a terrorist’s ship with alien haters, stocked almost exclusively for human problems.

The smell of turian blood turned her stomach as she slid down the wall beside the medical bay doors. More than once, she’d been coated in it in battle, and more than once she’d had Nihlus’ blood on her hands as she tried to hold him together. Nihlus’ future used to be the only one she didn’t know. Now, it was everyone’s fate.

Her panicked spiral continued long after the blood dried and began to flake.

It had been the night cycle when she’d arrived back on the _Normandy_ after finding Garrus. Now it had to be well into the new day. Exhaustion was starting to poke holes in her mind as she waited on the floor for Chakwas to reappear and tell her if Garrus would make it. Paralyzed by the unknown, Shepard waited motionless even after her legs had gone to sleep.

She didn’t notice anyone else around until a shadow loomed above her. Shepard didn’t think to look up. 

“You ah, alright there, Commander?” 

For a brief moment, the words reminded her of Kaidan’s from all those mornings waking up on the first _Normandy._ Her gaze snapped up the standard uniform pants in front of her to find it was Jeff standing there and not the Lieutenant. He had two mugs in his hands, and he held one out to her.

“That good, huh?”

Shepard huffed in response, not having the words just yet to tell him that no, she wasn’t okay or all right or anything even nearing fine. She brought her hand up to brush a few errant hairs out of her face but stopped when she realized Omega’s grime and Garrus’ blood still covered them. Grimacing, she lowered her hand to rest it back on her knee.

“Here,” Jeff waggled the mug in front of her face. “Looks like you could use this.”

She reached up and took the offer. Cupping it between her hands, Shepard found the warmth transferred in through the thinner parts of the glove’s material around her joints. Bringing it to her nose, she realized it wasn’t coffee as she expected, but tea. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joker very carefully levered himself down to the floor beside the Commander, using the wall to help steady himself and not spill his drink. When he was shoulder to shoulder with her, Shepard could see and smell that it was hot cocoa. “It’s about time someone remembered you don’t like coffee.”

\---


	12. It wasn’t a dream

**It wasn’t a dream**

\---

*BUZZ* *BUZZ* *BUZZ*

Another near sleepless night brought Shepard to wakefulness slowly. She’d long since changed her alarm from its standard beep to a buzz. The noise grated, but at least now when she rolled over. She wasn’t expecting to see Kaidan’s face and hear his voice.

She groaned, slamming a hand down against the alarm and silencing it for ten minutes. Not often in the last thirty years had she taken to hitting the snooze, but today she felt as though she deserved it. The new _Normandy_ crew had grown over the past days with the additions of Mordin, Zaeed, Jack, and Grunt.

Next, they were planning to hit the Citadel to fetch a thief. Shepard scoffed and rolled onto her back to stare out the idiotic starlight Cerberus installed. The initial few times she’d seen space close up after her first death, she’d frozen up. Now it was as routine as anything else. While her first crew came from stunning examples of humanity and other species, this motley group was turning out to be a miss-mash of criminals and misfits.

Having Garrus at her back was a relief. In battle, it felt like old times, but on the ship, he was distant and continued to shut her out. She’d met the young turian more than twenty times, gotten to know him and learned his dreams and about his past. But two years changed him just as it had changed everyone else. None of the other squadmates replied to her messages. Shepard felt shut out from everything she’d known.

Nihlus-- 

Well, she’d been a coward about Nihlus. Shepard couldn’t bear to send him a message and be rejected by him, too. Instead, she spent her downtime hacking her way into servers and paying for information brokers with any extra credits she managed to pilfer on missions.

The alarm buzzed again. This time, Shepard shut it off.

She stretched, enjoying a satisfying crack in her neck, before finally resolving to get out of bed and dress for the day. At least these new squadmates weren’t Cerberus, Shepard decided as she dressed in plain fatigues with the Cerberus logo torn off them. Garrus could be a familiar presence at her back, even if he kept blowing her off to calibrate the guns, and the others could sub in depending on who they faced.

It wasn’t the life she had, but she could live with that. 

\---

On the Citadel, Shepard had had to confine her activities to Zakera Ward. It was a dingy little place, with hardly any shops to visit or sights to see. While she’d managed to get along well enough with the local C-Sec office, she wasn’t so lucky in the rest of the ward. In her last cycle, Shepard hadn’t been around here to shop. None of the shopkeepers knew her by face, but when she mentioned her name, their eyes lit up like stars.

 _“_ The _Commander Shepard?”_ they’d say. 

And for just a quick voice imprint, she’d get herself a discount. Miranda disapproved, but that was hardly Shepard’s concern. She’d long since given up caring what strangers thought of her. An extra twenty years or so would do that to a girl.

Today, she walked with Jack and Kasumi at her heels. Or at least Jack, Kasumi she knew was around here somewhere-- but if the woman was directly behind her, she didn’t know.

“So, are we going to hit up a bar or what, Shepard?” Jack bumped into her shoulder as they passed Darkstar.

She sighed. “No.”

The ex-con grumbled but followed right along after the Commander. As much as the other woman had been initially hostile, the two of them had seemed to reach an arrangement. Shepard didn’t ask about Jack’s shit, and Jack, in turn, didn’t ask about Shepard’s. Their skills complemented one another’s in battle, and the Commander found herself more likely to bring the biotic rather than the other humans.

Jack got ahead of her and turned around to walk backwards. “Noodles?” she suggested, pointing toward the ramen stand with a pair of finger guns. 

“No, Jack.” She kept walking and overtook the biotic in a matter of steps.

“But, Shepard!” she complained, catching up at a jog.

The Commander tossed her a ration bar. “We’re getting supplies, Jack. Not for a girl’s night out.” She could hear Kasumi giggle from wherever she hid behind her cloak. “I’ve just got to slip into one or two more shops.”

“Fine.” Jack dragged out the word and tore into the ration with her teeth. “Can we at least get the new Galaxy of Fantasy expansion?”

Shepard sighed again but agreed. Because at least she could lose herself for a few hours at a time in the game and not worry about the fate of the galaxy.

\---

“You’re in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost.”

Hours of panic turned into elation so fast it gave the Commander whiplash. Her armour was dirty, spattered with husk leftovers and grime. She had a cut on her cheek that was just starting to mend and an ache in her left shoulder that just wouldn’t quit. But when she heard that voice, all her other thoughts flew away.

“I thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did.”

He _hugged_ her, and for a moment, Shepard felt like those two years didn’t happen. She held on as long as he allowed and missed the contact the moment he pulled away.

“It’s been too long, Kaidan. How have you been?”

It was the wrong thing to say. 

His brow furrowed, and she could see his spine tighten to that of a bowstring. He scoffed. “That’s all you have to say? You show up after two years and just act as if nothing happened?” His words cut into her, and nothing she could say would stop them.

Cerberus was all he saw.

And damn if he didn’t know she was back before she’d been able to find him.

The smiling face she’d known was long gone. Kaidan didn’t care that she’d sent messages to his extranet account. He didn’t acknowledge the fact she tried to get in contact through Anderson and the limited networks she could access. Two years changed him just as it had changed everyone else she’d seen. While one stood at her back, the others were lost.

It damn near broke her heart, watching him walk away.

“Joker-- send the shuttle to pick us up. I’ve had enough of this colony.”

\---


	13. Her world turned upside down

**Her world turned upside down**

\---

*BUZZ* *BUZZ* *BUZZ*

Illium.

It felt strange to wake-up docked and to the sight of clouds instead of inky blackness and stars. Shepard blinked herself awake to the view of an actual atmosphere and the lack of blues waves flowing outside her skylight.

Yet another one of her old squadmates had changed so much they’d become unrecognizable. The Liara she’d known from two years ago had at some point slipped away, in the asari’s place was a ruthless being who would flay someone alive for what she wanted. 

Shepard shivered despite herself. 

The more she saw her old squadmates, the more afraid she became of a potential reunion with Nihlus. Tali and Kaidan turned their backs on her, citing being too busy or the nebulous ‘but Cerberus!’ as their reason. Wrex was too busy running Tuchanka to be bothered with the threat of Reapers or Collectors. And then there was Garrus-- who was barely holding himself together-- fuelled by a thirst for revenge for his squad and seemingly nothing else. 

What came of Nihlus after two years apart-- Shepard didn’t know. She was no longer sure she wanted to. 

Getting out of bed, she headed for the bathroom before donning her armour. Today, they would oversee the transfer of Miranda’s younger sister off-world. Their father was evil, and that warranted Shepard’s attention. She sighed, clasping a gauntlet into place. Working with Cerberus was no different than the Alliance. They still sent her off galavanting across star systems on personal errands when she had more important things to handle: like the fate of the entire galaxy.

Shepard slammed her locker shut and headed for the door. At least Gardener would have her tea waiting in the galley.

\---

Despite all her complaining, Shepard smiled as she watched Miranda go to meet her sister for the first time in person. To see the skeptical look appear on Oriana’s face the same way she’d seen the expression on Miranda’s was comical. 

“Well,” Jack said while rocking between her toes and her heels. “I’m gonna bounce.”

Shepard tilted her head to the side just enough to see the biotic out of the corner of her eye. “Surprised you lasted this long,” she teased.

“Whatever.” Jack rolled her eyes despite her and Miranda getting along better in the past week or so since Pragia. It turns out, having an all-out screaming match and biotically throwing things was all they needed to smooth out their relationship. “Smell ya later, Shep.”

“See you back on the ship!” Shepard waved her off. “I’m going to look for the Assassin tomorrow if you want in.” As Jack walked away, she gave an exaggerated shrug. Shepard knew that meant she was in, even if the woman wouldn’t come out and say it. 

Turning back to the sisters, she saw the pair hug, and that was the moment Shepard knew she was extraneous to this interaction. She left the area and disappeared into the shadows of Illium’s alleyways. Even on a planet as clean and security heavy as this, there were still corridors Shepard could travel unchecked. 

She never expected a problem, and, hell, even if there was one? She could handle it. Shepard had been a Spectre going on thirty years. Admittedly she’d died just as many times, but she supposed the Collectors didn’t count. So when she heard a gun cock behind her, Shepard thought nothing of it.

Stopping in her tracks, Commander Shepard leaned into her hip and put a hand over the pistol at her side. It still felt warm from the newest thermal clip swap she’d done fighting the Eclipse.

“Walk away now, and I’ll let you live,” she said, cocky as ever.

The dual-flanged voice behind her scoffed, and it made her stomach drop. “Strong words, for a dead woman.” 

All of Shepard’s muscles froze, and she could feel pins and needles running up her spine while goosebumps played along her arms. “Nih--”

“Shut up!” he snapped.

She started to spin to face him. But too quickly, the pistol’s barrel pressed against the back of her neck, just over her amp. The metal was cold. The weapon hadn’t fired recently.

“Don’t move!” Nihlus’ voice was anything but the melodic voice she remembered from her dreams. So far removed from the song he’d sung, that she didn’t think it could go further. Even when fighting Saren, there had been emotions left, pain and heartbreak. Now, all she could discern was single-minded anger.

Shepard’s hand moved away from her hip. They both rose and spread from her body to show she would not go for another weapon. Not that she would have the ability to do so with a gun at her neck, Nihlus would kill her first. “Okay.” Her heartbeat boomed in her ears. “I won’t.”

“Stop talking!” Nihlus growled. She could feel the gun waiver, ever so slightly, but only because it pressed against the nape of her neck. Had he wanted to kill her, he would have done it already. He didn’t want to. Or, at the least, he needed something first. 

“Nihlus. Put the gun down.” She tried. It was hard, but she managed to keep her voice even and firm. “Let’s talk.”

“Talk.” He spat the word. She could feel the vitriol in the air. “You shouldn’t be able to talk. You were dead. I watched it. I saw you die.”

It felt like talking to Kaidan all over again but somehow worse. “It’s a long story, I’ll--”

“Just like the last one you told me?” The dug into her neck, causing the Commander to stumble forward a step against the pressure. “I trusted you.” An ounce of hurt made its way into his voice. She clung to it.

“Then give me a chance, Nihlus.” Shepard pleaded, not above begging. Nearly everyone had forsaken her, and she couldn’t let Nihlus do the same. Not when the Commander still felt so strongly about him. Even if they couldn’t be together, she couldn’t live if he hated her. Or perhaps she wouldn’t be given a choice. He could just shoot her now and end it all. “Please.”

Again, the gun wavered. 

But then he snarled, and it left her skin. Shepard was only able to relax for a half-second before she found herself slammed face-first into a wall with one arm twisted halfway up her back. She moved with him, allowing the hold so that he didn’t break her arm. It went against all of her instincts, instincts he’d taught her, but Shepard couldn’t lose him now. Not when he’d found her.

“Take out your amp.”

Shepard did so. The tiny chip disengaged from her amp module with a quick Omni-tool key and without difficulty. Nihlus held her with one arm and took the amp from her free hand before disarming the rest of her quick-access weapons: shotgun, pistol, combat knife, and Omni-tool. They both knew she had others, but he let them be for now.

“I’m unarmed,” Shepard said.

He growled again but let off her arm. “Walk.” he snapped. “Run, and I shoot.”

Shepard pushed off the wall and led the way, following his directions through the markets and deeper into the wards. She didn’t recognize where they were. The building gradually got shorter throughout their half-hour walk until they were all no taller than eight stories. Unlike the central port, this section of Illium didn’t look like gentrified. 

“Apartment 311,” Nihlus told her when they reached their destination.

Choosing the stairs, Shepard led them upward. It was nice to see some things didn’t change even if the turian himself might’ve. The third floor wasn’t so high that they couldn’t escape out the balcony if they needed to, but it was high enough that an approach from the ground would be unlikely. Nihlus always thought like a Spectre. Even now. 

The fact Nihlus hadn’t just shot her on-site was also promising, even as she stepped up to the door of some dingy apartment. It opened for her with a beep, Nihlus must’ve enabled it from his ‘tool. The lights were dim. A single chair sat in the middle of the room, and not much else. Her capture was premeditated. How long had he been tracking her?

“Sit.”

Shepard took a seat and let him cuff her to it. Nihlus wasn’t particularly rough, but she felt the bite of steel into her wrists. She could only hope this whole scene meant he was willing to hear her out. Her heart clenched. No one else had let her do that, even Garrus, who’d come along. He may have followed, but he wouldn’t speak to her.

“Nih--”

“Shut up.” His voice came out like a growl behind her, and she felt him move away as his shadow disappeared from above her.

In her current position, there wasn’t much to regard. Her chair faced a sparse kitchenette with apartment-sized heating and cooling units. There was a single, turian-styled mug on the countertop with a chip in the handle and a bunch of red Palavani-fruit she knew Nihlus preferred. Their spiky shells glistened with moisture as Nihlus turned on a bright lamp. Shepard had to squint briefly at the sudden change.

Turning her head, she couldn’t see Nihlus when she looked in either direction. A screen darkened the unit’s only window, and the door lock shone red on her other side. Nihlus intentionally avoided her gaze; it was infuriating. She had barely managed to glimpse him yet. She wanted to see what the years had done to the lines of his face. Had they aged him like they had Liara, or perhaps they’d made him weary like Kaidan.

The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes.

A tiny beep was all the warning she had before a brief pinch pricked her neck. 

“Ow.” Shepard tugged at the restraint but found it held fast. Looking as much as she could in Nihlus’ direction, she threw him a glare. “What was that for?”

Another set of beeps confirmed her suspicions. It was a medical device. He, like Aria, was checking her DNA-- albeit more invasive than a simple scan.

“It’s me, Nihlus.” He continued to ignore her. “I’m really here.” Still nothing. Shepard huffed and adjusted herself in the chair in an attempt to get more comfortable if she was going to be here a while; it only made sense. 

“You’re not going to get out,” Nihlus said, seemingly distracted by something. She knew the tone. It was the same one she used to use when working on her gun mods or model ships.

Shepard stopped. “I’m not trying to.”

He shifted behind her. “And why not?”

For a brief moment, Shepard felt stunned to silence. But then she started to laugh. It wasn’t funny. Nothing about this was even somewhat amusing. If anything she should have been scared shitless, she’d let herself be disarmed against a more powerful opponent and be held captive. Laughing was the only thing she could think to do, even when tears started to form at the corners of her eyes, she didn’t stop.

He snarled at her to quit it, and that only made her laugh harder. Nihlus kicked the chair, and she clattered to the floor right along with it, her armour protected her from the impact, but it still jarred her to silence. “You think this is funny?”

Shepard looked up at him, able to fully see his face now and the warring set of expressions. His mandibles were drawn tight to his maxilla, his eyes burned, and she could see the utter fury battling with pain. She swallowed, and her heart only pounded harder against her ribcage.

“No,” Shepard nearly sobbed. “This is so many levels of fucked up, Nihlus. I’m somehow not dead, and the Reapers are still coming. The Council won’t listen, and neither will the Alliance, no one will listen to me. I have none of my networks, no contacts, no resources.” --No you, she didn’t say.-- “There’s just me with a crew made up of criminals, terrorists, and outcasts. So no, it’s not funny!”

By the end, Shepard hadn’t realized she was shouting. But her laboured breaths made it noticeable once she stopped, and the room fell quiet around her again.

She could see the cogs whirring behind Nihlus’ eyes and the exact moment he decided to listen when his shoulder fell ever-so-slightly. He knelt and pulled her chair up without much effort. Shepard felt jolted back to reality with the solid thump of all four feet hitting the floor. 

Nihlus stepped away after too brief a moment and pulled over another chair. He unlocked the cuffs with his Omni-tool as he straddled the seat, just as he had all those months-- years-- ago when she’d first told him about the loops. One forearm rested against the back of the chair while the other hand rubbed his neck, almost ashamedly as Shepard rolled out her bad shoulder.

“So talk,” he said.

And so she did. Just as she had before, Shepard told Nihlus the whole story, everything: The broken loop, waking up with Miranda screeching in her ears, her reinstatement, the new crew and the whereabouts of the old one, the Collectors and missing colonies. Finally, just when her voice had begun to go hoarse, she said: “I missed you.”

Nihlus visibly stiffened beside her.

“I-- I needed to say it. Because it’s true, Nihlus.” She turned away, looking toward the kitchen to watch as tiny drops of water escaped the tap. “I missed you, so damn much.” Shepard didn’t want him to say anything back. She couldn’t take pity right now or the harsh truth that he didn’t miss her. So she kept talking, not leaving him room to intervene. “After thirty years, you’d think I’d have gotten used to being alone in the galaxy. But I never did. I’d always wake up to Kaidan, wishing me a good morning and the crew complaining about my alarm. You would always be waiting in the cockpit with Joker.” She swallowed, wetness was forming at the corners of her eyes. “I lost you so many times.”

When her glistening eyes finally let go of a tear, Nihlus wiped it away and pulled her into his arms.

\---


	14. She reached out

**She reached out**

\---

When Nihlus let go, Shepard felt a little part of her soul leave with him. He returned to his chair across from her and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. The expression had drifted to become pensive and evaluating.

Despite the brief moment of joy she felt, Shepard was raw and unmoored after spilling all of her emotions out into the air between them. In consolation, she crossed her arms over her stomach as if instinctively protecting her soft belly. Her back curved inward, making her feel even smaller before the alien.

Nihlus barely spoke a word beyond a brief question or two for clarification in places where the plot didn’t make sense-- not that much of her story would seem to, to an outsider. Even Nihlus didn’t understand everything she did after the beacon. He believed her about the Reapers the first time. He’d been at her side as she fought them. It would never be the same as seeing the mass destruction of society over and over again in her dreams.

Clearing her throat, Shepard looked away. When she could take the silence no more, she said: “So there you have it.”

“Mm-hm.”

She blinked and turned her attention back to him, and her arms dropped to her lap. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I don’t know what to say, Shepard,” Nihlus admitted. “It’s all so--”

When he didn’t offer to finish his sentence, Shepard did it for him. “--Unbelievable?” She scoffed. “Try living it.”

His mandible flicked out in the way she knew meant amusement. “Yeah, I can’t even imagine.” He rubbed his crest as if to stave off a headache as he sat up straight again. “I think I’m going to have more questions. But not right now.”

“Okay.” She nodded and took a moment to look around the room a little more rather than stare at him. It was a dreary place, with barely any furnishings beyond a couch. When the quiet became too much, Shepard prompted him again: “So, now what?”

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” he answered with a half-hearted shrug. “This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. You know, you actually being you.” 

Shepard let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. It was a comfort to know Nihlus thought she was herself. Too many times in these past months, Shepard questioned that fact herself. As she stared at her face in the mirror and felt the sting of fresh scars pulling taut across her body, it was easy to fall into the trap of believing she might be a copy. But surely, if the Commander were a clone, they wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of slashing her up just to sew her together again. She shivered.

“Shepard?”

Her head snapped up to see a softer expression on Nihlus’ plates. Her stomach twisted in a knot as she remembered the same look when they’d last see one another before she died. She waved him off. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Really.”

Nihlus made a disbelieving hum, but let it drop anyway. “So, I hear you’re still recruiting?”

While Shepard wanted to make a joke, she instead clung to the offer like a man dying of thirst would grab for a glass of water. “When can you start?”

On the skycar ride back to the _Normandy,_ Shepard embraced the silence. She felt raw down to her core and didn’t think she’d be able to hold a conversation if she tried. Instead, she found her gaze travelling across Illium and along the horizon when they reached the overlook at the docks. The sky had long gone dark, but light pollution created a haze against the clouds, which blocked out the stars.

When they stepped into the airlock between the city and the ship, Shepard finally took the time to look at Nihlus standing beside her. She noted his paint was more worn than she remembered his crisp colony lines to be, and his posture-- while still tall-- held a tired edge to it. She knew she was, in part, to blame for the stress that caused him to look at least a little unkempt.

As they were at port, Joker wasn’t waiting with some snarky remark from the cockpit. In fact, the deck was empty. He followed her to the elevator and said nothing until her hand stopped, hovering over the button for the loft.

“I uh--” she swallowed and slowly lowered her hand to the crew deck but still didn’t press any of the keys. “Would you--”

Nihlus saved her from her misstep. “You said Garrus was around, why don’t I bunk with him for tonight?”

“Right.” Shepard turned her head away to cover her blush, and she pressed the lower key. “Hey, EDI. Is Garrus up?”

_“Affirmative, Commander. Shall I inform him you have a guest?”_

“Please,” she answered and turned to Nihlus to explain away his skeptical look. “That’s EDI. Our Artificial Intelligence.” The lift stopped, and the doors started to open. Shepard stepped out and turned to see Nihlus staring at her with his mandibles gone slack.

“Your _what?”_

\---

Working with Nihlus again was a breath of fresh air.

She brought him along with her the first chance she got to find the Assassin Thane Krios. With Nihlus and Garrus at her back, it almost felt like old times. The turians were already at breakfast before Shepard arrived and were sitting across from one another at the mess hall table chatting away. It felt good to see them catching up, almost as if nothing had ever gone wrong. 

Their weapons sounded off in unison, her biotics flowed from her hands in clean lines, and the bodies hit the floor as they always had. Eclipse mercenaries were nothing against them. For the first time in a long time, Shepard felt whole.

Nihlus would meld into this crew just as he had with the original _Normandy_ team. Besides one misstep with Samara that almost ended in bloodshed, that is. Looking back, it might even be funny, maybe. After recruiting Thane, Shepard and the rest of the team settled in for dinner. Introductions were well underway when the asari walked in. 

“Shepard,” Samara greeted before freezing dead in her tracks. Her gaze narrowed on Nihlus with enough vehemence to kill a building. “Are you aware that a murderer is sitting across from you?” The question almost sounded genuine if not for the way Samara’s hands curled into fists at her sides.

Shepard looked across the table to see Zaeed and Jack beside Nihlus before she turned back to Samara and tried to lighten the mood with humour. “Which one?”

As expected, it didn’t quite work. Instead, a flare of biotic energy appeared in Samara’s raised hand. “He knows.”

“Shit,” Nihlus was already standing with his palms flat on the table in front of him. “At least give me a head start, huh? You know I don't have biotics.”

“While it is tempting,” Samara began as she tossed the biotic ball between her hands as though taunting him. “I will not kill you.” The biotics fizzled out.

Nihlus’ head whipped from the asari to Shepard. “Shepard, did she swear an oath to you?”

"She did," the Commander confirmed.

He looked relieved, and he sat back down. "Phew. All right, then."

“When my oath expires, however...” Samara taunted outright this time. Nihlus dropped his fork, and the rest of the table had lost it.

\---

Fetching Tali from the void and then running through the Collector’s ship at an all-out sprint were only some of the adventures Shepard managed to have since Nihlus joined the _Normandy._ With him aboard, the Spectre powers that had been at arm’s reach were all brought back within Shepard’s grasp. 

It felt like coming home in more ways than one to have her partner back at her side. While neither had tried to go beyond a friendly relationship, Shepard found herself drawn right back to him as she had in her last loop, when they’d been together. It got harder with each passing day to not put her hand on his arm at mealtimes or to take comfort in his steady presence at her side during missions.

When Garrus noticed, Shepard knew she had to change her tactics.

“Just ask him to spar,” he teased one morning in the kitchen when he noticed her making a mug of kava exactly how Nihlus liked it.

She shoved her shoulder into his and continued pouring the water. “Maybe it’s not for him.”

“Oh?” Garrus hummed before grabbing the mug the second she finished. She tried to grab for it, and he held it out of reach with a shit-eating grin plastered on his mandibles. “For me, then, is it?”

Shepard glared.

So, to try and cut her favouritism, she rotated through members of the ground team more regularly and tried to match people to missions that best suited them. Grunt particularly enjoyed crowd control with husks, and Tali was always the best member to drag along when expecting geth.

Soon, each member of the team had asked a favour of Shepard, too, some kind of unfinished business before they hit their final suicide mission. While some like Miranda needed help with family dramas, others like Zaeed wanted a last slice of revenge before the end. Shepard knew the importance of such missions, remembering how her relationship with Wrex improved after finding his armour or how Garrus opened up more after they tracked down Saleon. 

\----

The day Shepard got the message from Admiral Hackett about Alchera, her heart fell. She stood on the bridge beside Kelly when it showed up. The woman knew better than to ask what came over the Commander and the reason for her stormy expression. Instead, she’d quietly disappeared from the CIC and left Shepard to stew on her own.

Shepard’ hand creaked on the edge of the console as she read the message over again, her mind reeling as she read the lines:

_We thought this news might be important to you._

“No shit, Hackett,” she seethed before slamming her fist into the screen and breaking the interface. The looks she got from the Cerberus crew around her caused the Commander to freeze up for a moment before she too left the CIC. In the elevator, she asked Joker to change their course from Thorne to the Amada system. The Reaper IFF could wait a little longer.

In her cabin, Shepard paced the length while clenching her jaw and fists hard enough to make herself ache. Where did Hackett get off sending a message like that? She felt like an animal, locked in a pretty cage. The room infuriated her from the size of it to the extravagant aquarium. If she hadn’t known the tank was transparent aluminum, she would have considered putting her fist through that too.

The door pinged once before opening. In Shepard’s haste, she hadn’t thought to lock it.

Rounding on the intruder, Shepard had herself ready for a fight. She expected to see Miranda, one of the Cerberus crew or possibly EDI would have reported her outburst to the XO, Shepard was sure of it. But who she saw in the doorway wasn’t who she expected at all.

“Nihlus?” She questioned, the anger falling out of her like a rug pulled from beneath her feet. “What are you doing here?”

His head tilted to the side, and a mandible flicked out. “Heard you broke a console. Thought I’d remind you the Council isn’t footing the bill anymore.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She swore and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest. His voice had edged on teasing. She knew that. Even before they’d been together, Shepard had known how to read his voice. So why it hurt so much that he’d joke now, of all times, she didn’t know. Nihlus didn’t even know what was going on.

“Shepard--”

“Don’t.” She snapped. Then without heat, she added: “Just don’t. Okay?” 

She heard him come further into the room and descend the stairs. He stopped a metre away, and his hand hovered a moment between them before it fell to his side without touching down on her shoulder. He’d been close enough for her to feel the slight disturbance in the air as it fell away. “I’m not leaving,” he said, his voice laced with apologies.

“Fine.” Shepard stepped further away, and without anywhere else to go, she headed for the couch and sat down on one side of the L-shape. Nihlus watched her for a moment before he joined her and sat on the opposing end to not crowd her.

The silence felt overbearing almost immediately. That was one thing Shepard had never been much good at, taking silence in stride. She longed to fill it with something, anything. Instead, she fidgeted with her nails, picking at the edge of one particularly annoying hangnail. 

“Want to tell me what was in the message?”

“No.” She said too quickly. Nihlus remained quiet, and a moment later, she pulled up her Omni-tool and sent the message over to him to read for himself. “Here.”

Shepard watched his face, witnessing the exact moment he opened the message. Nihlus’ expression fell even further, his mandibles drooped, and his eyes pinched. She watched the flash of anger war with sadness as his nasal plates flared. Anyone who said turians didn’t have expressive faces had never really known one. When his eyes reached the bottom, she saw them rise to scan it a second time.

“There you have it,” Shepard said before looking away again. A lump formed in her throat as she looked up at the stars through her viewport. “He wants me to go back there.”

“Are we going?” Nihlus asked. She could see him close the ‘tool in her periphery. Shepard nodded. “Then I’ll come with you.”

Her eyes whipped down to his fast enough to made her jaw snap shut with an audible noise. “No. Absolutely not.”

“I’m not letting you go down there alone, Shepard.”

“Let?” she laughed. It was a bitter sound. “What right do you have to ‘let’ me do anything?”

His mandibles fluttered before pinching tight to his maxilla. “You already died once, Shepard. I’m not about to let that happen again.”

“Once? Try thirty times, and a solid fifteen of them were over that forsaken iceball.” She stood, too pent up to keep sitting. They’d never discussed her deaths, nor had she told him about all of his. “You know who else died? _You._ Every time I died, you died too. I don’t even know what’s coming for you anymore. It’s not like before, Nihlus!”

“Shepard--”

“Saren killed you the first time. Point-blank shot you in the back of the head.” Shepard knew that was a low blow, but she didn’t want him to comfort her right now. She just needed something to be mad at, and he was the only available punching bag. “The Thorian. A thresher maw. A krogan with a shotgun. Every time you died in new and exciting ways, and me? The collectors were always there to kill me too. When I ran away, the Reapers still came and then they got me along with the rest of the galaxy.”

She rounded on him, stopping her pacing. Nihlus had sat back down, and he stared at her, maw agape.

“Then, I had to fall in love with you.” She knew she was crying now, but the angry tears slid down her face all the same. “I went in knowing I was going to die. Thirty years and it always ended the same way. I didn’t know how I was going to even look at you again in the next loop. But then-- then I woke up to Cerberus handcuffs and Collectors at my damn door.”

“Thirty years?”

She nodded. Her voice had gone raw like it had that night on Illium. “And you were gone. When you found me, you didn’t look at me like you used to. I-- I-- just--”

Nihlus stood up and, in one swift motion, crossed the distance to pull her into his arms. She struggled for a half-hearted second before melting into his chest. Her hands wound in his tunic and held on tight. His mouth pressed to the top of her head in the approximation of a kiss. 

“I’m sorry, Shepard,” he whispered as he rocked her. “I’m so sorry.” His voice shifted into a comforting hum, as one might’ve comforted a child. “I should have been there for you the second I heard that stupid VI on the Citadel. I-- I was scared that maybe you weren’t you. Or maybe that you’d faked your death and run away.”

Shepard sniffed and pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Never. I would’ve never left you if I thought I could have stopped it.”

His thumb swept beneath one of her eyes and then the other. “You don’t know how many times I relived that moment, Shepard. Watching you get blown into space? And you knew.”

“Not the exact day,” she admitted. “But yeah, I knew that was how the story ended. Unless I chose to end it sooner or run away at the very start, I’d never made it past March of 2184. I didn’t want to give up any of the time we had left. I couldn’t risk telling you. Or you dying again. Before that final loop, you’d never made it off Illos.”

“Well, we’re both here now.” Nihlus took her face in his hands and slowly brought his mouth down to hers. She could feel his warm breath against her lips. “Can we start again?”

She answered him with a kiss.

\---

Shepard grabbed Nihlus' hand as he reached out to pull her to safety in the _Normandy._ Behind her, the last of the husks and Collectors screeched as Joker and Miranda filled them full of bullets before the airlock door closed and shut them out.

Her heart pounded in her chest; They’d done it. They’d actually done it. Shepard couldn’t think of anything else to do but laugh. Her smile was so broad it made her face hurt. They’d defeated the collectors. And the Reapers were next. 

\---


	15. And found a hand

**And found a hand**

\---

Waking up to the feeling of steady breathing beneath her had become Shepard’s most favourite thing in the galaxy. Her alarm had yet to buzz, and today they were space-bound without anywhere to be. With her ear flat against Nihlus’ chest, she could feel the double-beat of his heart and the vibrations of his second larynx as he dozed lightly.

Nihlus had returned to the ship only a few weeks ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

No longer did she wake up gasping for breath or expecting to see Kaidan standing there waiting for her. Now, the warmth of Nihlus beside her kept her demons away. She traced an unfamiliar scar on her partner’s chest, the plate’s edge raised beyond the rest of his smooth pectoral.

“Asari with a sword, if you’d believe that,” he mumbled, still half asleep. Shepard rose on an elbow to look him in the eye. So he continued: “She was trying to rob a museum.”

“And why pray-tell, were you in a museum?”

“Browsing?” his mandible flicked out teasingly, and he ran a talon gently up her arm making her shiver. Shepard didn’t let herself be deterred.

“While someone was trying to rob it?”

He hummed. “I may have been planning to procure a few things myself. It was after hours, I’ll admit.”

Shepard tapped his nose. “Bad Spectre.”

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘bad Spectre.’” He flipped her onto her back with little force and started to kiss his way up her neck. It was a damn good thing her alarm hadn’t gone off yet-- otherwise, they would be late for breakfast.

\---

With the Collectors defeated, for now, Shepard had space to breathe for what felt like the first time in a long time. The impending doom lay beyond the visible horizon now, without lackeys inside the Milky way, the Reapers would need to find another way.

Time had never been a luxury Shepard could ever afford. She planned to use it to her full advantage and spent it making plans for all the things to prepare the galaxy for the threat that was still to come. In some of her loops, she’d seen the arrival. The Citadel had been their entry point, which was now closed. Then the Omega-four relay, which wouldn’t work any longer either.

Credits and influence with Liara, the new Shadow Broker, bought her an army of researchers and scientists. They would find the Reaper’s next point of entry and close it. 

A mug touched down on the desk beside her. “Workin’ too hard again, Shepard.”

She rolled back in her chair to see Nihlus at her side, leaning casually against the surface of her desk. “There’s work to be done.” Shepard stretched, her back made a satisfied ‘pop.’ 

“There’s more to life,” he replied.

“Mm-hm,” Shepard agreed. “Which is why we did that this morning, and last night, and--”

He stopped her with a finger against her lips. “I think about other things, too.” She just raised her eyebrows, and he laughed. “Seriously, though.” Nihlus dropped his hand. “Could we make a pitstop on the way to Hagalaz?”

The planet Nihlus asked to stop at wasn’t exactly on the way to Liara’s secret base, but that didn’t phase the Commander in the slightest. She’d gone across the galaxy for the other members of her crew. Sometimes the timelines even meant they’d hardly left the Citadel before they needed to go back. Kasumi’s party had been a rather sudden addition to their schedule. 

So, when Nihlus asked, Shepard jumped at the chance. 

She arrived in the cargo bay ten minutes before the drop, decked out in full armour, only to see Nihlus leaning against the shuttle in a pair of formal civi’s. She noted a pistol attached to his hip. Otherwise, he was bare of weaponry.

“Getting a good look, Shepard?” Nihlus teased with a flick of his mandible just as she’d finished her up-down. She hadn’t meant to be appraising, but he made her laugh.

“Just checking out the merchandise.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and she leaned back into her hip. “I’ve got time to change if I’m overdressed?”

He scoffed and pushed off the shuttle. “You’re perfectly well dressed,” he said. “I don’t expect to see anyone down there.”

Shepard inclined her head as he sometimes did, but he gave her no response. Nihlus simply climbed into the shuttle and got himself comfortable in the cockpit. She joined him and immediately seized the controls. She remembered what happened last time he drove, and Shepard was not about to be killed by another thresher maw. “I’m driving.”

The glare he sent her was without heat as he settled back into the chair and gave her instructions down to the surface instead. The world was a typical M-class planet, habitable if a little warm at 32 degrees celsius. Nihlus took them to the southern continent, far from any sources of water and into an almost desert-like area.

“We’re almost there,” Nihlus said as he leaned forward to look out at the cloudless sky beyond the viewscreen. “Just set us down outside those buildings.”

“Sure.” Shepard’s brow furrowed as she looked out at the barren landscape while she brought them in for a landing. The buildings were all burned out as if a raging fire had gone through them. “Is this good?”

Nihlus hummed in agreement and was on his feet before she finished shutting the engines down. In the time it took her to disengage the shuttle and enact standard safety protocols like surface scans, Nihlus had already hopped out, and she could feel the dry heat seeping into the cabin.

“Come on, Shepard!” he called. 

Skeptical as she was, Shepard joined him and had to shade her eyes against the sun from the moment she stepped into the light. “Nice day.”

Inhaling sharply, Nihlus hummed again. “Don’t I know it.” 

He started walking, and Shepard had to jog to catch up. Her eyes darted about the colony, and her expectations from the air came true the deeper they walked. Someone firebombed the settlement long ago. The scars of war were old here like someone had razed the place at some point in time. Her heart lowered even as she watched Nihlus’ expression raise as he began pointing things out to her. 

“That plant there, it’s a _káktos._ Don’t ever touch one; I learned that the hard way.”

He didn’t speak about the buildings or the people he’d known, but Shepard could see how he cared for this place. The histories of those long dead lived in the details.

Nihlus grew up here. She could hear a warble in his second voice but did not mention it as they wandered closer to what could have once been considered a suburb. 

“We’re here.”

The home, or what remained of a home, stood in front of Nihlus and Shepard. Like most of the other quick-build container style buildings around them, this one had scars of smoke burned into it, too. Shepard tentatively followed Nihlus around to the back where a single tree stood in what had once been a fenced yard. She could see the remains of a desert garden, all sorts of plants hid their blossoms from the hot sun. 

“The blooms will come out at night,” Nihlus said, catching her eyes staring at the different types of cacti. “Mari planted those, they bioluminesce.” 

“Really?” Shepard asked, more to fill the silence than anything. It felt eerie being in a place that she knew caused Nihlus pain. He may have hidden his discomfort well, but Shepard knew him enough to see the strain in the set of his mandibles. 

“Mh-hm,” he knelt beside the nearest cactus and pulled off his glove before gently brushing his fingertips over the bristled spines. “Night flowering plants are common on Palaven.”

She left him to muse for a few moments and even went so far as to crouch beside him. Nihlus wasted no time taking her hand and showed her how to touch the small plant. Without her gauntlet, it felt almost fuzzy when she’d expected it to be hard. Though she supposed it was like his plates, they weren’t so rigid to the touch as she’d expected either.

When he straightened, Nihlus looked to the tree. “I’m sure you’re wondering what we’re doing here by now?”

“A bit,” Shepard shrugged and offered a small smile to reassure him.

He walked to the tree, and Shepard could see his hesitance as he reached one hand out to touch the grey-ish bark of its trunk. It sprung higher than the house, the spikey-leaves like evergreens on Earth. “Has your research ever covered turian funerals, Shepard?” He didn’t turn to look at her.

“Not in detail,” she replied, shifting between her feet. She recalled looking once, way back around the third loop or so when they’d managed to bring Nihlus’ body back to the ship. She recalled that turians cremated their dead and sent the ashes to the family. When a squad went down in numbers, the command would mix the ashes to promote the spirit of the unit before transferring them to the clans. That was how Shepard learned Nihlus had no family to send ashes to-- she gave them to the Council instead of a clan.

Turning his head just enough to catch her eyes, Nihlus attempted a smile. “I spread my family’s ashes here. Or, at least some of them.” His eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. “They were mixed with the others from the colony after the batarians attacked. The ground here was too sullied to create another settlement. The planet is all but abandoned now.”

“Not just your Mari?”

He opened his eyes, catching Shepard’s gaze with his own. “I had two brothers, both younger. They were with Pari when the first bombs hit, or so I was told. I-- I don’t remember much.”

Shepard couldn’t help but go to him. Her hand hovered in the space between them, just over his heart. She let Nihlus close the gap. He took her hand and put it to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss to it. He kept hold as he turned back to the tree and stared off into the middle distance.

“After Alchera, I came here.” Shepard stiffened, and Nihlus squeezed her hand. “I didn’t know where else to go.” He swallowed. “I’d just lost you. And I’d already lost Saren. I-- I know what he did, all those people he killed, but I can’t wrap my head around him truly being evil, you know? He did the right thing at the end when he knew it was the only way to win.”

“He did.” Shepard tightened her grip on his fingers. 

“Saren deserved better. You deserved better.” He let go of her hand and crouched beneath the tree. Digging with his hands, he found a box with very little trouble. “Since there were no ashes, I left something for each of you here. Deeper, there’s one of Saren’s old pistols and one of the books he favoured.” Nihlus blew the dust off the box before turning and offering it to Shepard as he stood. “But this was all I had left of your Spirit.”

Shepard’s eyes narrowed as she took the small box from him, and her eyes flicked between the gift and Nihlus’ face as she opened it. Inside, sat her dog tags. The ones she’d given to him during their last kiss before the Collectors stole her away. “Nihlus--”

He shook his head and simply reached into the box to pull out the tags and replace them around her neck. “There.” He adjusted the clasp to the back of her neck, trailing his talon along her sweat-dampened skin. “Back where they belong.”

Feeling the weight of the tags around her neck, Shepard couldn’t help but feel right. A piece of her old self returned. It felt silly to attach so much meaning to two tiny discs of metal, but for Nihlus to have considered them representative of her spirit spoke of how much care he took and how much he would have missed her. “Thank you.”

Nihlus pulled her close, planting a kiss on top of her head as he threaded his talons through her hair. “I’m glad you’re not dead, Shepard. It turns out I don’t move any faster on my own.”

Her fingers tightened in the front of his tunic. “I know the feeling.”

“I bet you do,” he chuckled. The sound rumbled from his keel straight through her armour. “Do you know why that song worked? I don’t remember ever telling you, or at least not the full story.”

Shaking her head, Shepard pulled back enough to look up at him. “You said that your Mari sang it to you. I couldn’t find a copy, no matter how hard I looked.”

“She wrote the song,” Nihlus said, his left mandible flicked out in a grin. “Between you and me, we’re the only ones who know it now. I try to come back here once a year to sing it for her and my brothers and my Pari. And well, for you. Not that you need it now.”

“Would you?” Shepard cleared her throat. “Sing it to me, I mean. Or, if not for me, for your family?”

Nihlus’ hand slid along her jaw to raise Shepard’s chin. He looked her dead in the eyes, brilliant green pierced into her very soul. “You are my family, Shepard. I’ll always sing to you.”

\---


	16. A lifeline

**A lifeline**

\---

Voices woke Shepard from a hazy sleep. It took a moment to orient herself but, when she did, reality hit her like a ton of bricks: Hackett’s mission, the prison break, the countdown clock, the Reapers, and Kenson.

Her heart felt like it was in her throat before her eyes had a chance to open fully, and her stomach felt like it dropped through the floor. 

The Reapers, they were nearly here.

With barely a moment awake, Shepard jolted upright. Her feet slamming into the metal floor sharpened her senses, and she began working on the way to get herself out of the medical bay. If Shepard didn’t work fast, the Reapers would waltz into the galaxy within hours. She killed the indoctrinated humans keeping her captive and found her armour.

Screaming wouldn’t help, but Shepard wanted to. Anger bubbled to the surface as she began making her way through the facility. Rage came out in swaths against her enemies. If there were one person who would not survive, it would be the woman who lured her here and anyone who stood in her way.

_Fucking_ Kenson.

\---

Harbinger’s form fizzled out after its speech ended. Idiotic thing monologued more than any cartoon villain she could remember from childhood vids and storybooks. At the least, she’d thwarted the Reaper’s plan for now. The arrival was delayed. She could only hope the price was worth it.

A disembodied voice in her head pulled Shepard back to the present. It was one of the comm officers, Hadley, she thought. _“Commander Shepard. Normandy inbound for pick-up.”_

It didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the ship was here. Shepard would get off this rock before it hit the relay. “Roger that,” she called out as the frigate appeared over the asteroid’s horizon. 

Shepard’s lungs burned as she sprinted across the exterior of the station. She thanked whoever’s gods would listen for the skill of her pilot. Joker brought the _Normandy_ steady, and she leaped the airlock without hesitation. Her boots barely gave her enough traction as she skidded to a halt in the cockpit.

“Get us out of here, Joker!”

His hands flew across the console, faster than she’d ever seen them move. Joker was in his zone, and she gripped the back of his seat hard enough to hear the leather creak. The inertial dampeners could barely keep up with the ship as they sped to the relay.

By the time Shepard made it back to the galaxy map, the relay had exploded. It fizzled out like the system never existed; the light went dark. She’d done that. She’d killed thousands upon thousands of people-- innocent people.

The air left her lungs for a whole new reason.

Shepard’s hands trembled around the support bar. Her throat felt like it was closing, and her vision greyed at the corners. Her helmet felt too confining, but her fingers wouldn’t work for long enough to make the clasps let go. Sinking to her knees, Shepard watched the world grow darker just like the lights going out-- just like the stars blinked out over Alchera so many times. 

“No, no, no, no…” she gasped, unable to find her breath. It was happening again. The panic she’d never gotten over was back, choking her. While the world disappeared around her, Shepard could feel herself dying.

Until, suddenly, it wasn’t. 

Her helmet was torn off and thrown hard enough that she could hear the shattering of a console through the panic. The darkness blurred into too bright lights, and Shepard found herself on her back, staring at the curved ceiling. A voice reminded her how to breathe. Someone was shouting. The world spun, and she felt sick.

“In and out. That’s it, Shepard.”

The weight of her chest plate left her next, making it easier to breathe. Shepard’s ribs burned without the pressure it provided, but at least she could take deeper breaths just like the voice instructed. Words started to become clearer through her muddled head. 

“Deep breaths.”

A bright light shone in her right eye, and then the left, making the Commander wince. The blurry form above her split into two: grey and red. Someone squeezed her hand, and she tried to squeeze back but couldn’t make her fingers respond with any conviction.

“Breathe.”

Slowly, as she listened to the voice, Shepard was able to make the world slide into focus. She could see Nihlus now. He leaned over her, his hand wrapped in hers. His mandibles pinched tight to his face, and his eyes carried the weight of the world. 

When she tried to sit up, Nihlus held her down by her shoulder. Chakwas hovered on her other side, mothering and serious-faced. A panic attack, the Doctor said quietly to Nihlus, like Shepard wasn’t lying on the floor of the CIC between them. She scoffed and turned her head away. The elevator doors were closed, and she couldn’t see any of the crew.

“Let me up,” she said, letting go of Nihlus’ hand and pushing both him and Karin away when they tried to make her stay still. She didn’t want to be on the floor anymore. The lights made her wince more than moving did. “I need space.”

Nihlus made a warbled noise of displeasure but let her go. 

Or he did until she tried to stand. He caught her before she could stumble and helped keep her upright. “Where do you want to go?” he said in her ear.

“My cabin.” Shepard’s voice felt as brittle as glass.

While supporting her, Nihlus fended off the doctor and got them into the elevator, but not before Shepard caught sight of ten sets of eyes watching her go: Hadley, Matthews, Chambers. Everyone watched her break. Shepard’s shoulders shook the moment the door closed. Nihlus’ arms wrapped around her back, and her face pressed into the cold metal of his chest plate. At least the cold helped stem the pounding she felt behind her eyes.

When the lift doors opened, Nihlus herded Shepard into her quarters.

They didn’t speak. Nihlus simply began to remove the rest of her armour and place it carefully down on the desk. He had her perch on the edge so that he could focus on the tiny clasps rather than keeping her upright. The lights were dimmer here, EDI must have seen to that. The blue glow of the fish tank left shadows across Nihlus’ fringe as he knelt to deal with her shin guards and boots. 

Soon, he finished with the metal and ceramic plates and moved on to his gear. It came off with little fuss and more haphazardly than the Commander’s own, though he was still quiet as he placed the parts down beside hers. His fingers were hesitant over the zipper of her undersuit, but at her nod, Nihlus removed that too. 

He winced in sympathy at the deep bruises on her skin. The indoctrinated staff were not kind, and Shepard had been in a hurry as she hurtled through the station. She’d had worse. It felt wrong that she was able to escape with only bruises and maybe a few broken bones when she’d killed _300,000 batarians._

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nihlus’ voice derailed her train of thought. “None of that.”

Shepard knew she was still hyperventilating, but it took so much effort to make herself stop. Somehow, Nihlus was patient enough to bring her down. He didn’t even know what happened. She didn’t deserve him, and yet, she didn’t want to tell him about it either. He’d never look at her the same way again, his expression would fall, and that would be it.

“Shepard!” Nihlus shouted. 

It snapped her out of it, for the moment at least. “Sorry.”

Nihlus pulled her downcast gaze off the floor. His palm was warm against her skin, and his thumb traced the line of her jaw. “Whatever happened down there, we’ll deal with it together, okay?” She nodded. “But later. Let’s get you cleaned up first, all right?”

Again, Shepard nodded. She didn’t trust her voice.

Putting all the faith she had left in her partner, Shepard let Nihlus guide her into the shower. The water was a bit too hot against her skin, but the little pin-pricks of pain kept her grounded. It was anything but sexual, standing pressed against Nihlus under the spray. It didn’t matter. They were both nude. His hands washed away the grime from two days of forced unconsciousness and hours fighting both in the prison and again on the project station. She must have smelled awful.

When she was washed and dried, Nihlus brought her to the bed. She sat on the edge as he first cleaned and dressed her wounds then fetched clean clothes from her drawers-- pyjamas. When she argued and asked for her fatigues, Nihlus refused, cheekily citing he had Spectre authority or boyfriend privileges-- whichever would grant him higher standing. 

It almost made Shepard crack a smile but ended up nearly making her cry instead.

After another few moments of reassurance, Nihlus managed to get them both dressed. He sat against the headboard and pulled her into his arms. With her back to his chest, he enveloped her in his warmth. She could feel his heart beating and the subtle vibration of his chest as he calmed her as a turian parent would a child.

“Nihlus, I have to tell you what happened.”

“You can tell me later.” He pushed her wet hair away from her shoulder and pressed his mouth to her damp skin. His breaths were warm and even.

She shook her head while simultaneously hugging his arms to her chest. “No. It’s important. I made that asteroid hit the relay. It’s my fault all those batarians are dead.”

“Shepard--”

“No. Listen to me.” Shepard pulled away enough to turn in Nihlus’ arms. She looked him straight in the eye and left no room for argument while she explained everything. She’d only delayed the inevitable at the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives. 

The Reapers were still coming.

\---

Shepard stood at the top of the gangplank, looking across the Citadel docks. Her dress blues fit a little loose these days; Food tasted like ash in her mouth even a week after Aratoht.

Coordinating the dismantling of the _Normandy_ crew took more emotional energy than Shepard thought possible. Even after Illos, when her alien ground team departed the _SR-1_ for the first time, she hadn’t had this hard of a time. The Commander promised Hackett she would turn herself in. It did not, however, mean Shepard was happy about it.

Nihlus was even less-so.

She let a long gust of air out of her lungs as she turned her gaze to the stars. The ship next to hers was about to depart for Sur’kesh. Mordin had been the last to leave.

The _Normandy_ made stops at Illium and then on the Citadel to release her crew. All of those departing had copies of reports and evidence they’d collected from missions against the Collectors and Reapers. They would go back to their species and rally the troops.

Garrus would go to Palaven, Tali to the Flotilla, Grunt to Tuchunka, Samara to Thessia, Legion to the Collective, and Mordin to Sur’kesh. The humans would spread across their networks, split between the underworld circles on Omega with Zaeed and Kasumi to Cerberus defectors with Miranda and Jacob. Jack would remain on the _Normandy_ at her request. She wanted to see Earth, she claimed, and Anderson had promised to keep her out of trouble. Thane needed to focus on his health but would assist, however possible, from the safety of the Citadel. 

That left Nihlus. It would be his responsibility as a Spectre to convince the Council. 

She heard footsteps behind her and didn’t need to turn to know who stopped at her right. “It’s time,” she said in as even a tone as she could muster.

“It is,” Nihlus agreed. His voice was flat as he kept his emotions hidden away. When she turned to face him, only his eyes held any semblance of sorrow. “This isn’t the end.”

“I sure as hell hope not,” Shepard replied, trying to make light and failing. She cleared her throat. Somehow, this was almost as heart-wrenching as that final moment before her last death. At least she’d known-- or thought she’d known-- what to expect that time. 

The silence dragged out for almost a minute before they broke it together. “Shep-” he started as he turned to her. “Nih--” she began while stepping toward him.

They caught one another in the middle and kissed. Shepard’s hands held his face, and he pulled her against his chest. Their eyes closed, and for just a moment, the galaxy wasn’t ending anymore. Her tongue slid along his, and she committed it to memory. 

It wasn’t the end, not yet.

\---


	17. To carry her

**To carry her**

\---

“Up and at ‘em, Commander!”

Shepard groaned and pulled the blankets over her head. If there was one thing she hated more than the alarm clock, it was Lieutenant James Vega’s morning routine. Maybe, if she hid underneath the covers for a minute, he would just go away. By her calendar, it was the anniversary of her latest death, not exactly a _rise ‘n shine_ kind of day.

“Come on,” the krogan-sized man encouraged with what Shepard knew would be a grin the size of the gods damned _Normandy._ “Sunlight’s a-wasting.”

“I know damn well the sun isn’t even up yet, Lieutenant,” Shepard complained, absent-mindedly throwing a pillow in the direction of the door with her biotics.

She heard the thump as it either hit him or the wall beside the doorway where she knew he was standing in his PT gear, ready for their 0430 run. She was only allowed out under guard, and only when the rest of the base was asleep.

“Let’s go!” Vega encouraged once more, clapping his hands as though that would help.

Only when Shepard finally sat up and put her feet on the floor did the man turn and leave. She knew he stood outside the door, and if she weren’t out there with him in five, he’d be right back in to drag her from the cushy bed and into the chilly Vancouver air with him.

Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, Shepard managed to pull herself together. It was just another day in lockdown. After exercise and breakfast, she’d spend the day arguing with the Alliance Defence Council, and if she was lucky, talk to Anderson before it was time to hit the rack again. 

The monotony of it almost reminded Shepard of her looping days.

She scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head before padding to the bathroom. Nothing was quite like those days. At least then, she’d been free.

\---

Shepard knew the Reapers hit Earth by the way everyone around her reacted long before the beam sliced through the Alliance Headquarters building, killing hundreds. She knew they hadn’t done enough before she saw the carnage, the first wave made of the city, and before she caught her dog tags when Anderson threw them at her. Reinstated as a Commander, Shepard knew they were too late. Like her Spectre status, the title was merely that: a title. It held no bearing over who would win this war, and it would not help her locate her lost teammates.

Pacing the length of the _Normandy’s_ mess hall, Shepard was once again at the mercy of time. While Kaidan lay wounded and possibly dying in the medical bay behind a closed door, she was helpless. It infuriated her to no end. 

This moment was all too reminiscent of waiting to hear of Garrus’ condition after Omega. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. The joints of her armour creaked, and Shepard hung her head. “Damn it.”

“Rough day?” Joker’s voice tore her from her melancholy thoughts.

Shepard’s eyes flew open as her head snapped up. The pilot had just rounded the corner. One hand rested against the wall to help him balance his weight on his brittle legs. She blew out a long breath. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Try me,” he said. Jeff limped past her into the empty kitchenette. By the cycle, it was early evening, but with so few crew aboard, everyone was working double shifts. “Ship’s on autopilot, and my relief is watching her. I’ve got time.”

Her brow raised. Joker never let anyone drive his baby.

“Well, I have enough time for a whizz and a coffee.” Jeff grabbed the kettle out of storage and hobbled to the sink to fill it. “EDI’s watching. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Huffing, Shepard approached the island and leaned her elbows onto the surface. She let out a long sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. At least this time, they weren’t coated in blood while she waited on the status of her crewmate. They had enough medical tech on board to keep Kaidan stable, and he was breathing normally. That had to count for something. 

“Liara has enough experience to keep him alive,” said Joker. Shepard shot him a glare from under her bangs. “I mean, I know she’s not _that_ kind of doctor. But she’s not inept.”

Shepard sighed. “You’re right. I know you are. Still doesn’t make the waiting any easier.”

“You’re telling me,” Jeff said while he fetched mugs and drink powder-- two she noticed when he put them down on the island. “Six months was long enough. I don’t get how you managed to relive that one year over and over again.”

“Oh, believe me. There were moments when--” Shepard stopped, frozen for a moment while her brain rebooted. She looked up and saw he hadn’t stopped hobbling around the kitchen, as though he hadn’t just admitted to knowing about the looping. “You know?”

He didn’t turn around but shrugged while shutting the cupboard he’d left open. “Didn’t seem relevant at the time. But yes, I knew.”

“How? When?”

“Since the _SR-1_ went down. Nihlus might’ve mentioned it.”

“Hold on, Nihlus told you. Why the hell would he do that?” Shepard blinked a handful of times. “Why would you even believe him?”

Jeff adjusted his hat as he turned. “We were stuck out there for a long time. So, it could have just been boredom. Could also have been the fact he was pretty upset you made him get in the pod first. He said you knew what was coming and let it happen anyway.”

While it may have been the truth, it still felt like a punch in the stomach. Shepard’s shoulders fell, and she wrapped her arms around herself as though it might give her some semblance of comfort. The kettle began to whistle, and it nearly covered her whispered: “It was the only way.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself, Shepard,” Jeff told her while turning away again to fill their mugs. “Pretty sure Cerberus wouldn’t have paid to put me and my brittle bones back together. Hell, I’m lucky they sprung for leather seats.”

The attempt at a joke almost made her crack a smile. But what finally did it was the smell of peppermint tea the pilot put down in front of her. Jeff always remembered.

\---

Walking out of Udina’s office, Shepard couldn’t have been more frustrated. Yet again, granted nothing more than the token show of support her Spectre status allotted, Shepard had to save the world. And, to add insult to injury, they’d left her with a laundry list of tasks to complete. While this time, she would be allowed access to the resources she should have been entitled to all along, it wouldn’t be enough.

Worst of all, no one could tell her where Nihlus was.

People on the Citadel acted like nothing was the matter. Sure, newscasts were talking about Khar'shan going dark and Earth following suit. But it was lost in the mundanity of regular life-- of store patrons complaining about the quality of frivolous items and ads showcasing the newest entertainment tech.

Looking around here, Shepard could have screamed. No one cared that the Reapers were coming. What was the point of all she’d done-- all the lives she’d snuffed out-- if the galaxy’s population were happy to ignore what was going on around them? 

Shepard refused to let her anger control her. She returned to the _Normandy_ with what little crew she could gather-- Chakwas, Adams, Donnelly, and Daniels in tow. If the galaxy was doomed, then she sure as hell was going to go down fighting.

\---

After acquiring the new Primarch-- and a particular old friend-- from Menae, Shepard was glad to be back on the _Normandy._ While there were a thousand things that required her attention, at least now she had a moment to breathe and maybe catch up. Soon, they would meet up with the krogan and salarian ships for the war summit. After that, perhaps the galaxy would actually have a chance against the Reapers. 

The loft was quiet as always when Shepard arrived. EDI had already taken it upon herself to tone the lights down. The Commander sighed, letting the weight come off her shoulders as she began to put pieces of her armour away in the locker. Once she was in pyjamas, she sat down at her desk with a glass of water and her work terminal.

Emails piled up from her time in confinement. Again, ever the helpful AI, EDI had sorted them into folders. Messages with well wishes and updates from friends were stacked in a folder separated from the batarian death threats and a constant stream of requests for her help.

One message, in particular, caught her eye, left in the general inbox-- unsorted.

_From: Sender Blocked_

“Hey, EDI?” Shepard looked over at the AI terminal and waited for the blue orb to appear. After a moment, EDI’s voice came over the speakers with her typical greeting. Ever since gaining her body, EDI didn’t use her orb anymore, and it was still taking some getting used to. “What’s this email about?”

The AI’s voice almost sounded coy as she replied. “Perhaps you should open it and find out.”

Shepard’s eyes narrowed, but she turned back to the terminal and pulled up the message. At first, she was somewhat disappointed to see she didn’t know the sender personally, but the sentiment was nice, at least.

_While some still have concerns about your past activities with Cerberus, many of us in ST &R took your warnings about the Reapers seriously. I'm reaching out to you because I have information that could tie agents with significant political power to the Reapers._

At least he and some of the other Spectres believed her, including one as respected as Bau. But it did figure that he was asking for help, just like the rest of the galaxy it seemed. Like she didn’t have enough on her plate. Shepard rolled her eyes and very nearly closed out the message before her eyes caught a post-script.

_PS: Kryik sends his regards._

Her heart skipped a beat. Nihlus was alive! Shepard read the e-mail over and over again, trying to discern if there was anything else she could glean from it. Her partner hadn’t replied to her messages, and she’d asked EDI to flag her if there was anything from him-- There wasn’t. Incarceration had torn them apart, and the war meant she didn’t know if he was all right.

Shepard didn’t know if she could trust Bau. But she wanted to trust him more than anything if it meant her love had made it. Nihlus was still out there somewhere, and it gave her hope.

\---


	18. Until she found him

**Until she found him**

\---

*BUZZ* *BUZZ* *BUZZ*

Groaning, Shepard reached her hand blindly out from under the covers to shut off her alarm. Her body ached, and spirits waned. Tuchunka had been a rousing success, but that didn’t make her muscles hurt any less. Bruises covered her from head to toe from encounters with brutes and Cerberus troops alike. 

As tempting as it was to roll over and sleep a few extra hours, her growling stomach managed to force her out of bed. She fumbled with the wrapper of a ration bar as she padded to the washroom and tore into it while waiting for the shower to warm up the room. 

While she’d managed to pack on a couple of kilos in lockdown, the biotics use was quickly beginning to tear through those stores. More than one member of the squad had started throwing bars at her head whenever she stopped long enough to breathe; Joker and Karin too. 

She tossed the empty package into the recycler before stripping off her ratty old N7 tank and panties before stepping under the warm spray. Shepard nearly moaned as the heated water washed away last night’s sweat and the remnants of shadowy dreams. It was hard to remember what she’d seen in the darkness, but when she closed her eyes and put her face under the spray, she could almost hear Mordin’s voice in her head: Someone else might have gotten it wrong.

_Fuck._

Her fist collided with the wall. Damn it. She didn’t want to think about Mordin right now. He wasn’t the first friend she’d lost. Hell, she’d lost everyone at some point in her lives and some of them more than once. The Reapers would take everyone if she weren’t careful. 

Opening her eyes, Shepard pulled her hand back and shook out the worst of the ache. Her scraped knuckle bled a little, and the water stung her skin as it washed the redness away. She would get through this loss too. When the war was over, she could mourn-- if she made it through herself.

\---

The Citadel was under siege. 

Shepard felt her heartbeat begin to slam against her ribcage the moment she heard the news. It didn’t stop as she armoured herself and got ready to enter the fray. With Garrus and Vega at her back, she had the best possible team for the situation. Vakarian knew the Citadel better than anyone, and Vega had become a force to be reckoned with against Cerberus. James hated them almost as much as the Reapers.

They made headway quickly through the wards, shooting anything wearing white and yellow armoured plating. Fire and screams had made their way to the Citadel, the last haven in this war, and it sickened the Commander to her core. What the point of this was, she had no idea.

What could Cerberus even stand to gain from this mess? 

She tossed out a biotic shockwave, throwing a pair of Cerberus troopers off the balcony and to their deaths. Vega reloaded his assault rifle while Vakarian scratched another one. They worked as a unit, attempting to make their way to where the Salarian Councillor was supposed to be. The information he carried could be the linchpin to Cerberus’ whole operation.

When Shepard and the squad reached C-Sec headquarters, they found the Executor-- a turian she didn’t recognize-- and two officers dead in the office. She paged Bailey over the comms to let him know the story. 

_“Damn,”_ Bailey replied, sounding even more haggard than earlier over the comms. _“All right, keep searching. If you don’t see the Councillor’s body, don’t count him out yet.”_

Ever the sharp eye, Garrus was the one who caught sight of the Councillor first. He waved Shepard over, and on the lower level, they could see shots coming from a dark spot in the air. It was a cloak. 

“Found him,” Shepard announced. “He looks unharmed.”

_“Get him somewhere safe!”_

Shepard rolled her eyes, as though she needed to be told-- _honestly._ She shook her head and was about to send the other two down to the lower level while she kept eyes up top when a figure descended from the rafters. It looked almost like one of the Cerberus phantoms they dealt with earlier, but larger.

Shooting her way through the glass, Shepard biotically leapt down from the second floor to fend off this new attacker. She wasn’t about to let Valern get killed by her indecision. “Don’t even think about it!”

“Shepard,” Valern hissed, not sounding entirely happy to see her. “He’s going to kill us all.”

She wasn’t about to let that happen. “That remains to be seen,” she replied through gritted teeth.

“I mean Udina!” he corrected, insistent on getting the information into the proper hands, unwilling to let it go unsaid. “He’s staging a coup. He’s got the other Councillors now-- to hand over to Cerberus.” 

_Fuck._ Shepard swore internally. She’d assumed someone was helping Cerberus; she just hoped to hell it wasn’t someone so high up the chain. She held the black-armoured operative at gunpoint as James and Garrus stormed into the room from the stairwell. 

She kept her foe’s attention, trying to decide the best way to remove the Councillor from danger. He didn’t appear well armed beyond the sword at his waist. Though, she’d seen what the phantoms could do with one of those at close range. “Three on one, pal. It’s over.”

But he didn’t seem to care, “No. Now it’s--” A single shot rang out, and the Operative's last words gurgled together in a mess of blood. 

“Five on one, actually.” From the shadows, two more friendlies stepped out-- Thane, who was attempting to hide the fact he found the comment amusing, and Nihlus with his mandibles fluttering in annoyance. “Damn, that guy was getting on my nerves.”

Thane walked across the room and bent down next to the prone Cerberus Operative to first ensure he was dead and then pray to his spirits. He’d always done that after missions and close quarters assassinations, whether he was the killer or it was someone else in the squad. 

Shepard’s eyes, however, were stuck on the other party. Nihlus stood tall in battered armour and without a helmet. New and old damage covered the suit like he hadn’t had time to make repairs before needing it here on the Citadel. His left arm hung in a sling against his body. His hand was limp. When she found his eyes, they were staring at her, and his mandibles dropped into a sly grin.

It took all the energy Shepard could muster not to go to him.

“Kryik, it’s about time you showed up!” Garrus broke the tension. And Nihlus chuckled, crossing the space to greet him first with a firm forearm grasp as Shepard had seen them do last time they met on Illium.

“Vakarian, I heard you were working for the Primarch these days. Good to see Spectre missions still take priority.” He winked at Shepard, grinning as he let go of Garrus’ arm. “Seems like we’ve got some more Councillors to save. If you’re up for it, Shepard?”

“You know it.”

\---

By the time Shepard returned to the ship with Nihlus in tow, it was late in the night cycle. He looked half-dead on his feet, so she sent him ahead to her cabin for a shower. She hoped it wasn’t too presumptuous, but he buzzed happily at her offer and made for the elevator while Shepard finished up in the CIC.

The Council was safe, Udina was in custody, and Thane’s task was to keep an eye on a new Human Councillor once one was appointed to ensure they didn’t have a repeat of the coup-- it wasn’t precisely assassin’s work. Still, it did make him feel like he was more useful, which had to count for something. 

Udina was surprisingly helpful, outing a number of his associates as Cerberus sympathizers and giving C-Sec every detail he knew about the shadowy terrorist organization. With the information the disgraced Councillor could bring to the table, they had a chance to shut them down before they could do any more damage to the war effort. Whoever the Council assigned as Kaidan’s mentor would be in charge of removing them as a threat. It felt right, and Shepard knew that part of the mission would be in good hands. While they brought the fight to Cerberus, the _Normandy_ crew could increase their efforts against the Reapers.

Next stop: the Perseus Veil.

The _Normandy_ would finish resupply at the Citadel docks within the next hour or so under Adam’s watchful eye, and then they would be on their way into dark space. Time that Shepard could use to get reacquainted with her partner before they ran short on time.

Bouncing between her feet, Shepard waited for the elevator to ascend to the loft. She felt almost giddy knowing he would be waiting, but there was a part of her that was nervous too. Nihlus’ arm couldn’t have been in good shape if he was wearing a sling. Something had to have happened on his mission to bring him back to the Citadel. 

She carried two bags of takeaway in one hand. Even in the middle of a crisis, enough credits could still get your delivery within twenty minutes. It smelled good at the least, and hopefully, Nihlus would approve of the fried _louza._

“Nihlus, I brought--” Shepard cut herself off and nearly dropped the food when she saw him. He stood facing the desk with a towel wrapped around his hips, looking over his armour. Vast swaths of scar-tissue ran from his bad arm across the curve of his cowl.

He turned, an attempt at a smile pulling his mandible. “Dinner?” he finished, gesturing to the bags with his right hand, the good one. His footsteps were stiff as he crossed the distance between them and took the bag from her fingers before it could fall. “I’m starved. Hospital food is garbage, even on the Citadel. I’ve heard that’s a universal experience.”

Shepard cleared her throat with a cough. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.” 

Nihlus hummed and carefully descended to the lower level, finding a spot to sit on one side of the L-shaped couch. “Rations are one thing, you know they’re going to be bland but how the hospital ‘chefs’ make regular food taste so awful, is anyone’s guess.”

He continued prattling on like nothing was wrong, even as he began pulling boxes out and sniffing hers and pulling a face before setting it aside and finding the one that said ‘dextro’ on the top. 

“Coming, Shepard?” 

Nihlus’ voice dragged her out of her head. “Yeah. You go ahead. I just have to wash my hands.”

He dug into the food while she disappeared into the washroom. She pulled off her gear, leaving it in a pile to deal with later before washing her hands and face. The room was still steamy from Nihlus’ shower, and she had to clear the mirror off with her forearm to see her face. It took a minute to school her expression. If Nihlus didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t have to. Shepard took a deep breath, pulling herself together, and exited the room.

She fetched clothes for Nihlus from what had been his drawer, and a clean shirt of her own to toss on over her sports bra before joining him at the low table. He was nearly halfway through his meal, quite content to spear bites of meat with his talons rather than attempt utensils with his off-hand. 

Picking up her box, she leaned back into the couch and ate her noodles with a pair of chopsticks. The room remained quiet until Nihlus finished scarfing his meal. He collapsed into the cushions with a satisfied sigh. “Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shepard said between bites, nearly finished with hers as well. “Least I could do after you saved our asses back there.”

His mandible flared out, teasing her. “Naw, you would have handled it. Unless you forgot the hostage lessons I gave you?”

“Maybe he would have had a chance to use that sword of his,” she shrugged and leaned forward to put her empty box down. “Honestly, though, who brings a sword to a gunfight?”

“So true,” Nihlus chuckled. 

The mood shifted then, a sombre edge taking hold as he considered the clothing she’d left out for him. He pulled the sweater into his lap and flicked one of the toggles with his talon. “Turian clothes are a pain in the ass right now. Would it be too presumptuous of me to skip them?” He looked up, a hopeful gleam in his eye. “Or if you wouldn’t mind helping--”

Shepard scooted closer, putting a stop to his fidgeting with her hand on top of his. “Can’t say I have much experience dressing turians. I’m a lot more skilled at taking clothes off.” Her smirk made him relax. She felt the tension fall off his shoulders. “Bed is more than big enough for the both of us, and, somehow, the retrofit team hadn’t taken it upon themselves to get rid of all your pillows yet.”

Nihlus slid his hand up the length of her arm and stopped when he was cupping her cheek. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

She leaned in, gently placing her forehead against his crest. “I missed you too.” 

\---


	19. Once again

**Once again**

\---

Shadowy figures surrounded her. Shepard could feel her heart racing in her chest. She had to get to the little boy before it was too late. Her feet pounded the ground, sending shockwaves up her shins while the Commander ran through the forest. Why was she in a forest? Her lungs burned. 

_“Shepard.”_

The voices were back, whispering to her. She could hear Mordin’s mixing with a thousand others. The darkness seemed to fill in from the edges, pulling her down into the shadows. No matter how hard she sprinted, the boy kept getting further away. 

_“Shepard!”_

Fire. There was fire surrounding him. She was too late. The child and a facsimile of herself burned right before her eyes, and she could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks. Falling to her knees, Shepard reached into the flames to try and pull the boy out. She was too late. Too la--

“Damn it, Shepard! Wake up!” Shepard’s eyes snapped open to find Nihlus leaning over her. The talons on his good hand were digging into her shoulder as he shook her awake while his other hand hung limp on the bed between them.

With a startled gasp, the Commander came back to herself. “Ni-- Nihlus?” her voice was hoarse, a mere croak around the edge of tears. 

“Ooph!” Nihlus caught her against his chest as she launched herself into his arms. He held her close, purring comforts to her while rubbing her back. “It’s all right, Shepard. I’m here.”

Slowly, her rapid heartbeat slowed, and her breathing evened out. Shepard’s skin felt clammy as it cooled. She was on the _Normandy,_ in bed with Nihlus. There was nothing to fear right now. The ship was at FTL speeds, the Reapers were not on their doorstep, and the Collectors were dead. Her panic waned.

Nihlus was so patient with her, even now. “That’s it,” he soothed. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She felt his head shake. “The last few weeks have been anything but easy. You have to give yourself a break.”

Nihlus wasn’t wrong, and Shepard knew it, but that didn’t make it any easier to admit aloud. The fight never seemed to end. After Rannoch, they ran back to the Citadel only to need to depart for Thessia before they could take a moment to breathe. In the morning, they would be on asari soil searching for a Prothean artifact. She took comfort from her partner as they lay back down with her on his chest. The double beat of his heart thumped against her ear and eased her back to sleep.

\---

Thessia was a disaster, and the asari were no more ready for this war than anyone else. It reminded Shepard of Earth, and that fateful day in Vancouver. They fell in droves as the Reapers firebombed their cities and stole the citizens.

With Liara, Javik and Nihlus in tow, they’d headed down to the surface. When the shuttle doors opened, a wave of humidity blasted the interior, permeating the air with sulphur and smoke. There was no easing into this fight. The Reapers were already making the asari knock on Death’s door.

Adding hails of bullets and biotics, they helped stabilize the area. Javik-- of all people-- was able to rouse the troops to keep them fighting while Shepard and the squad headed for the Temple of Athame. Soon, they faced all sorts of Reaper spawns, including banshees. Their screams would echo in Shepard’s ears long after they were dead. When they reached the temple, the coast looked to be reasonably clear. 

“It appears the temple has been barricaded,” Javik observed. 

“Ever the optimist,” Nihlus chuffed in retort. She caught him shaking out his bad arm, while it healed well according to Doctor Chakwas, Shepard noticed it still bothered him from time-to-time.

Shepard headed for the controls while Javik and Nihlus continued to bicker. She rolled her eyes and ignored them. She and Liara worked through the military-grade encryption and got them inside within a matter of minutes. 

The Temple was empty. There were no scientists or Reapers-- just a building full of relics. In normal circumstances, Liara would have salivated at the chance to see artifacts like this in person, but she was all business until they figured out what the Protheans had left behind. It turned out to be another VI, like on Illos. 

The hologram appeared as Vigil had; this one was named Vendetta. It spoke of a splinter cell in the Prothean people, so similar to Cerberus that it made the hair on the back of Shepard’s neck stand up. When it explained the cyclic nature of the cycles, some of the pieces started to fall into place for Shepard. Vendetta made it sound hopeless, but Shepard refused to believe it.

“If you wish to continue fighting,” Vendetta said. “I will not hinder you. Though I deem your odds of success remote.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Shepard replied firmly.

“Very well. If you have followed the plans for the Crucible, I will interface with your systems and assist with the Catalyst too.” 

“What about the beacons?” she asked. She couldn’t help but pose the question. With all this talk of recursion, her loops couldn’t be a coincidence. Javik stiffened, and she could see Liara’s confusion out of the corner of her eye. She ignored them both.

Vendetta flickered. “The beacons survived?”

“Yes,” Shepard nodded and took a step closer. “I saw the visions.”

“Then tell me, Primitive. How many cycles have you seen?”

“Shepard--” Liara tried to interrupt, but Nihlus grabbed her arm and cut her off with a shake of his head. He appeared as focused on Vendetta as Shepard herself was.

She grit her teeth. “Why does it matter. The Reapers still came. It didn’t matter how many loops there were. Either I died, or the Reapers came. Or both.”

“What changed, who changed?” Vendetta asked as he blinked all four of his eyes in unison. 

Shepard’s gaze shot to Nihlus and then back to Vendetta. Her brow furrowed. “How did you--”

“Perhaps there is hope for your cycle yet.” The VI shifted back into a glowing, green ball and flew back to the console. That ominous answer would be all the information she would gather from Vendetta, as the sounds of battle approached. It was time to go.

At the console, she downloaded the data they needed while Nihlus called for their evac. Her mind raced, but thankfully the shuttle was minutes away, and everyone needed to save their breath for running. Thessia a lost cause for today, but perhaps because of it, the war wouldn’t be.

In the relative safety of the Kodiak, Liara set her sights on Shepard. Although, before she could say a word, it was Javik who managed to get in her space. 

“Why did you not speak of the cycles before, Commander?” Javik’s anger was palpable as he seethed and narrowed all four of his eyes.

She glared in return. “The Reapers are still here. What does it matter?”

“This changes everything!” Javik shouted before he began to pace. “I knew there was something about you. The first time I touched you, I sensed it. Echos of so many lives. I wrote it off as your resurrection, but there is more to it than that.” He stopped a mere pace away from Shepard. “What broke your cycle?”

Nihlus stepped between them, pushing Javik back. “I did. She died saving me.”

Javik tore his glove off and offered his hand to Nihlus. “Take my hand. Let us see if there is anything within you like there was Shepard.”

“Fine.” Nihlus took his gauntlet off and stiffened as Javik took his hand. Their touch was brief, but it made the turian stagger, and Shepard had to help him sit down.

“Perhaps, you are the key,” Javik said. All four of his eyes were blinking rapidly. The prothean looked unhinged. “I sense-- echoes in you as well. I feel the pain of your deaths.” He glanced at Shepard for a moment before returning his gaze to Nihlus. “Desperation wars with--”

“By the Goddess, would you all just stop?” Liara shouted, garnering everyone’s attention for a moment. Since entering the shuttle, she’d been silent. Too distraught from the trauma of Thessia, perhaps? Shepard couldn’t say.

In the silence, Javik glared at the asari but said nothing more until he turned back to Shepard and Nihlus. “I must take time to consider this.”

“Okay,” Shepard nodded. The shuttle was approaching the _Normandy_ anyway, from the cockpit Cortez announced they’d be aboard within a few minutes.“We’ll talk later.”

While half of the Commander was enthused about the prospects of learning more about her looping, the other half was full of nerves. As much as she wanted to pump Javik for information, she knew him well enough now that it wouldn’t be a fruitful conversation. He would take his time considering the new data and let her know when he was ready.

Hopefully, soon. Time was running short. 

\---

Javik would not see Shepard nor Nihlus for days.

They stopped into a Cerberus facility called Sanctuary and rescued Miranda before Javik finally broke his silence. It was only when they were within an hour of the Citadel for their last supply run that the Prothean met with them. Through EDI, he requested a meeting in his quarters. Shepard brought Nihlus with her, and they entered to see him washing his hands, as was typical. He did not look up as they stepped inside. Nihlus stood a pace behind Shepard, allowing her to take the lead. 

“Javik, you had something to share?”

The prothean paused, holding wet hands aloft, the only sound in the room was the slow drip into the pool. “I do.”

Patience had not been Shepard’s virtue until she began living the same year over and over again. In her fifth life or so, she learned how to wait. Silence drifted for a long time until the droplets had stopped falling from Javik’s hands. She heard Nihlus shift his weight behind her.

“In my cycle, it was I who lived many lives,” Javik admitted. His hands touched the surface of the water, and Shepard continued to wait. “Ten lives. Ten deaths. On my last, I was frozen. When I woke, it was to you.” He turned, and water fell to the floor. “As you had, I touched a beacon. The first was not Prothean. They were from some other species, long dead.”

Shepard swallowed. This information rattled around in her head, giving her a headache. 

“If I die this time,” Javik began. “--I die.”

“And if I die?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I do not know. You died over Alchera and did not reset. Perhaps the beacon’s power died with you. Perhaps someone else is reliving their life as we speak.”

“I would rather we didn’t test the theory,” Nihlus said. “We have Vendetta and the Crucible. We have the Catalyst--”

“No.” Javik interrupted. “We have nothing. We have reached the same stage as my people had. This cycle is no closer to stopping the Reapers than any other, and now? We have no beacon for the next cycle.”

Shepard’s mind raced; Javik wasn’t wrong. But he couldn’t be entirely right either. “Whatever power the beacon had over me, it stopped when Nihlus lived. There has to be more to it. And why didn’t Saren loop?” she spun to look at her partner. “He touched it too.”

Nihlus’ mandibles pinched, and he looked at Shepard with a shrug. “How do we know he didn’t?

She hummed in acknowledgement of that fact. There was no way to know.

“Did you touch the beacon every time?” Javik asked, grabbing her shoulder to make her face him. When Shepard nodded, he made an affirmative grunt. “Before, you said it shattered. It broke each time as well?”

“Yes.”

The prothean shoved her away. “Then it is your fault we are doomed. For all your lives, we are still at the ending. The Reapers are here, and they will kill us all.”

“That’s not fair,” Nihlus growled, getting into Javik’s space and forcing him back. It was simple, considering he was a head taller. “You were not able to destroy the Reapers in your cycle. You had just as much of a chance as Shepard.”

“Nihlus, stop.” Shepard placed a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him away from the prothean. “We have to trust one another, Javik. Trust whatever that beacon did do was right.”

“Trust?” He scoffed and went back to his pools. “How can you trust something that made you watch everyone die over and over again? How can you believe there is still a chance?”

Shepard’s brows knitted together. She tried to figure out a way to say it so that Javik would understand. But how to put it into words? It was true. She watched her friends die so many times, and she remembered the pain of dying herself. From gasping in the darkness to feeling the heat of a Reaper’s beam and then nothing. Shepard remembered each life and each death with a clarity that should have made her cringe. 

“Hope is all we have,” Nihlus said. Shepard felt his hand close over her shoulder. She looked up, and he smiled down at her. “It’s the only thing the Reapers cannot take from us. I choose to trust in that. To trust in Shepard, whether or not you do too-- it’s up to you.”

\---


	20. In the end

**In the end**

\---

Shepard awoke at her leisure, stretched out across the bed in her new apartment. While she would still admit to being sore from falling through the fish tank, she would prefer to think it was from last night’s activities. She grinned, rising on her elbows to see Nihlus still fast asleep beside her. Shepard left a smudge of lipstick rouge on his mandible last night and another on the edge of his neck. 

Nihlus had taken her to their room after the festivities ended for the night. Despite some hooting and hollering on behalf of Kasumi and Jack, she’d rather enjoyed sneaking away. What was supposed to be a final supply run turned into a rather eventful few days. A clone, a new sect of Cerberus, and finally some well-earned shore leave.

She’d shot bottles on top of the Citadel with Garrus and racked up a high score at Armax with Jack. She broke Grunt out of lockup, checked on Thane at Huerta, _finally_ watched Fleet and Flotilla with Tali, and gambled the night away with Miranda. Hell, she’d even had a real steak cooked by Kaidan as he told her about taking down Cerberus’ HQ with his Spectre mentor.

If there was a loose end now, it was only where The Illusive Man was hiding.

Stretching and stifling a yawn, Shepard smiled. She couldn’t help it. Despite everything, the Commander had her crew-- her family, and that was worth everything. Later, they would depart the Citadel, maybe for the last time, and she was as ready as she could be. After living the same year over and over, Shepard learned to appreciate the smallest of comforts. So now, when she’d had a moment to breathe, she’d lived her life to the fullest. 

If she died for real this time, Shepard would carry no regrets.

\---

After an hour of pacing and more than one snarky remark about ‘wearing a hole in the deck,’ Shepard finally sat down in the co-pilot’s seat beside Joker. They were alone in the cockpit; EDI’s physical form had gone to speak with Tali about the drive core. It wasn’t that the AI needed to go anywhere physically, but with her new body, she’d been trying to be more personable.

Waiting was the hardest part of the war, Shepard learned that early in her life as a soldier. Through her many lifetimes, she’d gained patience out of necessity. However, it did nothing to settle her nerves today as the _Normandy_ led the Crucible from its hiding place to the Citadel. 

In the plans Vendetta carried, the Crucible needed to dock with the station. Once the superstructures were connected, the final piece would slot into place and perhaps then. They could finally finish this war. 

Exhaling loudly, Shepard leaned back in her chair and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. They’d gotten long. Maybe, if she survived, she’d grow them out after this. It would be a hell of a lot easier to tie her hair in a tail. Maybe Nihlus would like it--

“Credit for your thoughts?” Jeff asked, breaking the Commander from her musings. 

She lazily turned her head, a small smile parting her lips. “Just considering the possibility of a future,” she told him, and Joker smiled back. “It’s been years since I had a proper vacation, you know.”

“Lockdown doesn’t count?” he teased and looked back at his interface. She could appreciate the smoothness of his movements as he adjusted the engine burn ever so slightly. Piloting as Joker did was a dance all on its own.

Shepard scoffed. “No.”

He relaxed into his chair with a sigh; the worn leather creaked. “Where should we go?”

“I was thinking Intai’sei,” she said conversationally. “Last I checked, my vacation home was still standing. If I’m lucky, it’ll be waiting for me. I’ve got spare rooms if you’d like to stop by.”

“Stop by?” he chuckled as he adjusted the brim of his hat. “Who do you think is driving this boat, Shepard?”

Shepard’s grin turned fond. “Fair point. Where would I be--”

A warning alarm pinged on Joker’s screen before she could finish, and as fast as Shepard could get to her feet, her pilot was back at the controls. That waltz from earlier turned into a quickstep in no time. Anxiety rose in the Commander’s throat. Time was up. She knew it before he said anything. 

“Shit,” Joker swore a handful more curses under his breath while setting the _Normandy_ up in her battle configuration. He recalled EDI to the bridge and ordered all hands to battle stations.

It was time. The Reapers had come for the Citadel.

The ensuing space battle was the most nerve-wracking of Shepard’s life-- or rather lives. She had seen wars before from every side, whether that was boots on the ground watching the skies lit aflame or from the interior of the ship while they aimed their aggressors.

This battle would decide the very fate of the galaxy, and Shepard could do nothing but watch from her station. Joker had the conn. The strength of her crew would win this fight. She trusted them with her life. So when the frigate’s inertial dampers sputtered, she held onto the railing in the war room, watching the fight on the holographic screens.

Nihlus stood across from her, his jaw a hard set line. They were armoured and ready.

Even when the _Normandy SR-1_ went down over Alchera the first time, there was no battle, only death. In some lifetimes, they’d managed to fight back for minutes, but each time they were felled quickly by the overpowered Collector ship. Shepard could remember with vivid clarity the day they launched through the Omega-Four Relay to take on that same vessel. This life was her last-- her stomach twisted in knots. 

They could not afford to lose today. 

The ship’s intercom buzzed for a second before EDI’s voice filtered into the war room. Shepard and Nihlus both looked to the ceiling, waiting on bated breath for her to speak.

_“Shepard, Admiral Hackett is on the QEC.”_

EDI barely had finished saying the man’s name before she pushed off the railing and headed for the comm room. When she entered, Nihlus a step behind, the eerie blue figure of Admiral Hackett was already forming before her.

“Admiral,” she greeted shortly. There was no time for pleasantries. 

He flickered as the _Normandy_ shuddered. “Commander. I’ll keep this brief. I need you on the Citadel immediately.”

“The Citadel?” she questioned, the gears already turning in her head. 

_“Right,”_ he nodded and stood taller in front of her with his arms at parade rest behind his back. _“The Reapers arrived before us, they closed the arms of the Citadel, and the Crucible needs them open to dock.”_

Nihlus stepped onto the podium beside her. “Is C-Sec not responding to hails?”

Hackett’s grimace was enough information for the Commander, but he answered regardless, that no, they hadn’t. They’d tried every emergency frequency and even resorted to VFH. Nothing worked. 

_“Get the Citadel arms open, Commander… whatever the cost. We’ll do the rest.”_

“Yes, sir,” Shepard nodded once, brisk and firm. There was no other option; the Crucible was their only shot now. They had to take it.

_“Good luck… to all of us.”_

Between Joker’s piloting and the Normandy’s stealth systems, they were able to bring the ship within a kilometre of the Citadel. Nihlus knew the station’s secrets and how to get them in even while the arms were closed. The docks nearest the Presidium, reserved for diplomats and Spectres, would be the key. Together, along with James, they would board the station and get to the Presidium Tower to open the arms.

Shepard felt an odd sense of recursion following her as she sat in the shuttle, holding the straps tightly while Cortez took them in. It was her life’s story, really, this strange déjà vu. Again, she was back on the Citadel, trying to save the galaxy from the Reapers. Only, this time, it wasn’t just Sovereign who bore down on her crew-- it was the entire sentient machine fleet.

“Shepard, you’re clear!” Steve called from the cockpit.

Her quiet moment of reflection over, Shepard punched the clasp of her harness to undo them. She had a job to do, and no one-- not even the Reapers-- would stop them now.

\---

Stepping foot onto the private docks, Shepard felt thrown back in a timewarp. Like the first time with _Sovereign,_ and again during the Cerberus coupe, the Presidium was ablaze. Only this time, no bodies lay in the streets. There was an eeriness to this much destruction without people, dead or otherwise. Dragon’s teeth lined the walkways, slick with blood and Reaper detritus.

It did not take long before the groans of Reaper forces stole the quiet from them.

Shepard shouldered her shotgun and worked to tear through the monstrosities that used to be citizens. Humans, turians, krogan, batarians. So many had become the things of nightmares. She was glad of her helmet, it kept the smoke away from her nostrils and her lungs clear while she shot wave after wave of enemies. 

Neither of her companions was a slouch in battle; they held their own. Both James and Nihlus had learned to work well together through the last weeks of the war, while one reloaded the other stood their ground. They fought in the middle ground while she vaulted into battle like the vanguard she was at heart.

The fight was taking too long, longer than Shepard cared to spend against the Reaper’s cannon fodder, but this was the only way to the tower. The design of the Citadel itself was working against them as they tried to reach her very centre. Like the bridge Garrus held on Omega, it would take time to break down their defences.

Or it would have, had there not been more bullets added to the fray. They came from the embassy windows. It was the citizens of the Citadel! 

Shepard felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn’t been too late; they were still fighting. Blue echoes followed her shockwaves, and she charged more times than she cared to count. Within an hour, they’d made it down the few kilometre long pathway that led to the tower.

At the end of their path, the tower’s base, a turian in battered blue C-Sec armour stood from behind his cover. He gave the area a hard look, and only once he was sure it was safe did he call the ‘all clear.’ More officers and civilians alike stood up, bloodied but not broken. 

A young girl, hell she couldn’t have been more than thirteen, stood at the Officer’s side. She held a pistol in her right hand, and it looked like it had seen use more than a few times. Shepard’s gaze followed up her arm, taking in the dirty purple coveralls, blonde hair, and then finally the look of determination on her face. She may have been a child before this war, but she wasn’t anymore.

The Officer appeared to be the leader of this group, and Shepard treated him as such. She first removed her helmet, then holstered her shotgun on her lower back before holding out her arm to greet him.

“Commander Shepard,” he clasped her arm at the elbow in the turian style before letting go. “It’s good to see you, ma’am. Spectre Kryik--. Vega.”

“Tragen,” James replied. 

Shepard turned in time to see James flicking his chin at the man as if he knew him. She’d have to ask him later. She spun back to Officer Tragen. “My team and I need to get into the Citadel Tower.”

Tragen nodded once. “Reaper forces infiltrated the Tower a few hours ago. Citizens had been using it and the embassies as emergency bunkers when the alarms started blaring. Since the comms went down, we’ve been doing what we can to protect the civilians, evacuating and falling back to this position, but they kept coming.”

“You’ve done well, Tragen,” she said and clasped the turian on the shoulder. “We’ll take it from here.” 

His mandible flicked out in a movement she recognized as anxiety. Still, he held firm to his subvocals and corrected his expression to one befitting of a C-Sec Commander rather than the Officer his sigil showed him to be. Hell, it reminded her of how Garrus used to look when he was a cop.

“We want to help,” Tragen said. “We can hold this position.”

Shepard considered it for a moment, and as she regarded the motley group of Citadel citizens, she saw their resolve in the set of their jaws and the strength in their eyes. Even if she sent them away, there was only one way out. They were in the ‘sniper nest’ now, at the other end of the bridge.

“All right, Tragen. But your priority is the civilians. If you need to, get out.” Shepard looked pointedly at the young girl, and the Officer put his hand on her shoulder. She grinned up at him as one would look at a parent. “Understood?”

“Understood, Commander. Good luck.”

There was no time for a grand speech-- no _hold the line_ glory for her _._ There was only a moment to catch their breaths as they’d spoken with Tragen. As much as she would have liked to, Shepard knew where her priorities lay. 

They left the Officer and his charges then, passing through the entryway and into the elevator. Though, instead of sending it up like she’d done so many times before to get to the Council chambers, Nihlus sent it down. 

“The control room is down here,” he explained. “They moved it after _Sovereign.”_

Shepard hummed and took the quiet moment they had in the lift to sneak in a ration bar from her kit. She chewed without thought to replenish her energy stores after the heavy biotics use. “How do you know Tragen, Vega?”

James stopped in the middle of his stretch and turned to Shepard. “The docks. He’d play poker with us every once in a while after his shift.”

It clicked for the Commander then. She knew she’d seen him before but couldn’t place him until Vega mentioned something. Tragen was the desk sergeant, and the young girl was a refugee-- Sarah, she thought her name was. Shepard had seen her at the desk before, asking after parents that would never be able to come for her. Shepard clenched her jaw, and the last bite of her ration bar stuck in her throat like a sticky brick. She swallowed it down.

Resolve filled her even more than before. When the elevator stopped, Shepard and the squad pulled on their helmets. If they could still have hope, then so could she. 

The building wasn’t as swarmed with Reapers as the Presidium had been, but inside the quarters were closer, and the husks were all the more challenging to fight. They came across more than a few scions and marauders inside the depths of the building, but thankfully the quarters were too close for brutes and ravagers.

Where they found barely any bodies outside, here they seemed to be piled in the hundreds. Even with Shepard’s suit filters working at peak, they couldn’t bar the stench of rot and decay.

It wasn’t until they came across the first group of banshees that everything started to fall apart. Their screams echoed in the Commander’s ears, along with the constant clatter of the team’s weapons. There were four of them. And even at the asari monastery, they hadn’t had to face so many all at once. 

After they felled the first two, James let the third one get too close. He went down hard with a shout, and Shepard had to charge across the field to ensure it couldn’t strike a killing blow to her squadmate. Her shields fizzled out as she collided with the monster, and she felt claws cutting into the more flexible part of her armour at her waist. 

Red spatter filled her vision as the claws withdrew, and Shepard hit the ground hard, air rushing from her lungs at the impact. 

“Shepard!” Nihlus yelled. He was pinned down by the fourth enemy, and too far away. 

She planted her feet firmly against the ground and skidded away from the banshee on her back until she impacted the wall. Her assault rifle sounded off until the heatsink ran too hot. She threw the weapon away and tugged her pistol from its holster. She shot at the reaperized asari at point-blank range until there was a hole where its head should have been. 

Across the room, Nihlus cried out in pain. There was no time for the Commander to rest. She forced herself to her feet and tore her last weapon, her shotgun, from the holster and while her hands shook from the effort, she tossed a warp field at the final banshee before unloading every round left in her gun.

Bloodied, but still standing, Shepard stood victorious as the banshee fell before Nihlus.

Her shoulders heaved with the effort it took to remain on her feet, but she hurried forward with a limp toward Nihlus. He lay on his side, three long gashes in the front of his armour plating. Blood had begun to pool under him, and Shepard fell to her knees beside her partner. 

“No, no, no, no…” she whispered, hurriedly checking his vitals on his armour’s interface. He was alive, thank the spirits or gods, hell anyone who would listen at this point. Shepard saw the suit was already delivering medigel. “Don’t you dare die on me now.”

After a moment, Nihlus groaned. 

Carefully, Shepard pulled off his helmet to make it easier for him to breathe. Only once she’d seen the green of his eyes did she leave his side to check on Vega. The human fared little better, his leg bent at an unnatural angle, and his face held a grimace that left nothing to the imagination.

“Go, Shepard. You have to,” Vega said to her once she helped him move to Nihlus’ side. “I’ve got him.”

The Commander looked between her friend and her lover. She knew James was right, but that didn’t make leaving any easier. Her hand grasped Nihlus’ for what could very well be the last time, and she bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed. “Damn it.”

Nihlus squeezed her hand. “Shepard?” His eyes were fuzzy, unfocused as she’d ever seen them. She’d seen him die so many times before; he couldn’t die again. Not now.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “Stay here.”

He gripped tighter and tried to push himself up off the floor. “I’m going with--" His voice cut off with a grunt as he slipped in his blood. His bad arm caved under his weight.

She forced him back down. “Don’t argue with me, Nihlus.”

“No, it can’t end like this again!”

She touched his face, cupping his mandible. “No matter what happens, you mean everything to me. Remember to sing for me, okay?” Shepard pressed her brow to his crest for one final moment. 

“Shepard-- I--” the words caught in his throat as her hand slipped from his.

The Commander got to her feet and nodded to Vega. He did the same. Between them, a silent promise passed. James wouldn’t leave Nihlus’ side unless death took one of them. She stopped at the door, her hand on the frame as she looked at her partner in the eyes one last time.

With Nihlus’ pistol in her hand, she limped through the exit.

It wasn’t far from the control room. The number of bodies continued to climb, and Shepard stumbled over severed limbs as she made her way out across a short bridge to the central dais where the console that controlled the arms would be. 

There was no more resistance until she came to the top of a set of stairs. 

“You!” she shouted, her voice filled with vitriol. Before her, at the control console, stood the husk that remained of Jack Harper, The Illusive Man. 

He turned with a gun in his hand. 

Shepard raised her weapon to shoot him but found herself frozen. Wisps of black fog swam across her eyes just like it did in her dreams of the little boy in the forest. Jack or maybe the Reapers forced her to listen as he went on and on about controlling the ancient machines. Instead, he was able to get off the first shot. She jerked back but was unable to fall.

A gut shot. It burned, and Shepard could feel the blood seep out of the wound. Without the ability to retaliate with her weapon, she started to argue with The Illusive Man. Shepard did not come this far to die now. Maybe she could change his mind like Nihlus had changed Saren’s.

“Look at yourself,” she spat after he’d ranted about controlling the reapers for a minute or so. “You’re indoctrinated!”

“That’s impossible,” he argued with a feeble shake of his head. “What if controlling the Reapers is the answer?

“If we destroy the Reapers, this ends today. But if you can’t control them…”

“But I can!” he snapped, the blue optics that substituted for eyes seemed somehow manic now, just like Saren in those final moments.

“Are you willing to bet humanity’s existence on it?” Shepard couldn’t take this anymore. She continued fighting against the unseen force that kept her frozen. All she needed to do was squeeze her finger a little tighter. “They control you!”

“I… They’re too strong!”

“You’re stronger. Don’t let them win. Break their hold; don’t let them control you.”

Jack raised his pistol to his head. He looked almost remorseful as he finally did the right thing. “I tried, Shepard.” A gunshot would ring his final act of defiance. 

When his body hit the ground, the fog lifted. Shepard fell to her knees at first, the pain making her collapse. But, after a few moments, she forced herself to half-crawl, half-limp across the platform and to the console. She found the controls to open the arms, and before her eyes, the wards began to unfurl. The orange-yellow glow of the inlaid cities gave way to the darkness of space and the battlefield. Her comms came back online. Fuzzy at first, but they strengthened as the arms opened up fully.

She watched as the Crucible came into view, her grip trembling against the edges of the console. Shepard wanted nothing more than to collapse. But she couldn’t, not yet. Not until she knew it worked. 

The superstructure docked with the Citadel just as Sovereign had done all those years ago. When the screen flashed before her, Shepard looked down at the console. Three options appeared on the interface. She could have laughed-- there were _fucking options._ After looking them over, she did what she came here to do. Her hand slammed down on the red button without pause. 

She destroyed the Reapers.

Finally, sinking to the ground with her back against the console, Shepard released the breath she’d been holding. Her breathing laboured, and eyelids heavy. When she checked her medigel stores, she found it empty. Huffing, Shepard realized that maybe this was it.

When she pulled her arm away from her stomach, blood had stained it. Though her augments might keep her alive a little longer, the time allowed her mind to drift from the problems before her. As the edges of her vision began to grey, she switched her comm frequency to the private channel she used with Nihlus. Maybe he’d hear it if she sang. Perhaps she wouldn’t be alone when the world finally went black.

_"Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lo_

_Lay, lay_

_“I'll fly for you_

_My lover, my sun_

_Sweet dreams to you_

_My only one_

Her voice cracked over the single word she changed. Nihlus was merely that. The only man she’d ever loved. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth as her eyes closed with a glimpse of bright red light. She began the second verse, and whether Nihlus joined her or she dreamed it, she’d never know.

_“I'll fly for you_

_My lover, my sun_

_Sweet dreams, my only one_

_“Lora lie lo_

_Lora lie lay_

_Lay lo, lay lay.”_

\---


	21. She didn’t let go.

**She didn’t let go.**

\---

At first, there was only her breath.

Shepard knew she was alive with the first shaky inhale and subsequent exhale. Her lungs ached like they always did after Alchera. Her throat was raw, and her bones felt like they were made of glass. She could feel the scratchy covers under her arms and missed the soft sheets of her bed on the _SR-2,_ but they could only mean one thing. It didn’t work. She’d looped again.

Perhaps, if she didn’t open her eyes, she could pretend it was over.

To think that she would end up here again, in the beginning, was mind-boggling. But there could be no other answer. She’s seen the red flash, almost like the beacon’s vision. Maybe the fire on the _SR-1_ had masked the light before. Today was the first time in a while she died somewhere other than over Alchera.

After everything, Shepard didn’t think she could bear to see the first _Normandy_ in all her pristine glory, nor Nihlus look at her without feeling again. And then there was Anderson. How could she look her mentor in the eye after everything they’d been through? After knowing she would leave him on Earth.

Someone shifted to her right. And all at once, her stomach fell through the floor. She braced herself, but the words hit like a brick wall anyway.

“Alright there, Commander?” Kaidan asked.

Panic and a desire to scream warred with her sense of duty. The room was full of soldiers she’d seen die in tens of versions of the _Normandy._ She couldn’t scream. Not yet.

He moved closer; the sound of fabric shifted as he approached the bed. “Shepard?”

But when she opened her eyes, the top bunk wasn’t there. Instead, Shepard found herself staring at Kaidan’s face. A haggard, unshaven version of the one she remembered so well. A series of stitches held his left brow together, and his eyes looked bruised from exhaustion. He wasn’t the Alenko she knew from the _SR-1._

“Kaidan, is that really you?”

He smiled and sat down in the chair beside her bed. The gentle expression softened his features and easing the stress lines. “Nice to see you, too.”

A hospital room became less blurry as Shepard blinked a few times, and sounds began to filter into her ears now that they’d stopped pounding. She didn’t recognize the room. It was a hospital standard with white walls and no personality. Outside, the sky was a brilliant blue-- the Presidium’s ever-present sunny day.

“We’re at Huerta,” Kaidan said before she could ask. “It’s over, Shepard. They’re gone.”

Shepard continued to stare out at the artificial clouds. Her mouth felt dry, and her throat parched. Millions of questions threatened to fall from her lips, but none could. They were stuck. She grabbed at the front of her paper gown, afraid of what the answers might be if she was able to voice those questions.

The mechanical whirring as a set of doors drew open stole Shepard’s attention and broke her spiralling thoughts apart. In the entryway stood Nihlus. A heavily bandaged and limping Nihlus, but her partner all the same. His mandibles were slack against his maxilla, and she could see the amazement in his eyes.

Beside her, Kaidan vacated the chair, and as he passed the turian on his way out, he put his hand on the taller man’s shoulder. He might’ve said something, but Shepard’s ears were running, and she didn’t hear it. Nihlus nodded to him and stepped further into the room and let the door close behind himself. 

“Nihlus?” she whispered. A long moment passed before Shepard reached out. She could feel her jaw quivering with unshed tears. 

He crossed the room in a handful of strides to pull her into his arms. Only when his crest pressed against hers did he answer. “Welcome back, Lover.”

\---


End file.
